


The Ties that Blind

by MrProphet



Series: The Ties that Blind [1]
Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-25
Updated: 2017-04-25
Packaged: 2018-10-23 22:14:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 24,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10728333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrProphet/pseuds/MrProphet





	The Ties that Blind

_P8C-236  
Khonsa_

The planet Khonsa was recorded in the archives of the SGC as a forested world, rich in plant and animal life, but with no extant civilisation. The only signs of habitation were the ruins of the once-great city, palace and pyramid of Ashmunein. Perhaps some six-to-ten thousand years old, the stone walls were crumbling, overgrown with vines and trees. The once-great city was now home to no greater culture than packs of the dominant local carnivore; a dog-like animal with white fur and red ears, which the members of SG-2, visiting just over two years ago, had dubbed yell hounds. A thorough examination had suggested that the ruins had been a place of worship and residence for an ancient Goa'uld named Thoth, but despite their archaeological value, the savage tenacity of the yell hounds – and the fact that they had no ingrained fear of humans or guns – meant that further survey had been deemed unprofitable.

Plainly someone disagreed, and not just the SGC's thwarted academics.

The forest around the palace had been ruthlessly cleared, and a Goa'uld mothership now perched on top of the pyramid. Guards stood watch in the crumbling towers, and a death glider circled the site like a great carrion bird. Teams of scribes and scientists – Goa'uld, Jaffa and human – scoured the buildings for every trace of writing, digging, gouging and blasting in search of secret doors that might conceal hidden passages, writing tablets, or even papyrus scrolls. Each team was protected by two warriors, and small squads of hunters had driven off most of the yell hounds, capturing a handful of pups for their masters to keep as pets or experimental subjects.

The leader of this expedition was, in one sense, no stranger to archaeology, having pursued the discipline with a fierce devotion for almost twenty years. That was the host however, and the Goa'uld within the body of Sarah Gardner lacked her patience. When word came of a traitor in her entourage, it had almost come as a relief; at last she would have something to entertain her.

Osiris sat on a mossy throne in the midst of the palace, with a yell hound pup on her lap. A handmaiden stood beside her, with a tray of meat to feed the animal, and with her left hand Osiris stroked the beast's blood red ears. She enjoyed the hound's unquestioning affection, and had given him a name she deemed appropriate.

"These creatures are quite fascinating," she told the man kneeling before her. A rope had been tied around his neck, and secured to a stake in the ground, but he was in little condition to run. He had been beaten and tortured before being brought before Osiris, and then she had had him beaten and tortured again. "They have an almost psychic connection with their pack mates; when one feeds, the others display signs of hunger. It's quite Pavlovian," she added, although the man could have little notion of what that meant.

"Mistress," the Jaffa begged.

"I did not give you leave to speak!" Osiris roared, causing the pup to cringe. "Hush, now, sweetie," she cooed. "Mummy isn't angry at you." To prove her words true, she took a scrap of meat from the dish and fed it to the little creature. Immediately, the two older yell hounds tethered near to the Jaffa stood bolt upright and began to salivate. "If I feed this little one enough," Osiris continued. "Then those two will be driven quite to distraction with hunger. And of course, the only food within their reach...is you." The two hounds fixed the man with baleful eyes.

Osiris picked up another scrap of meat. "You came to my service from...where was it now?" She looked enquiringly at the Jaffa, and gave the scrap to her puppy when he did not answer straight away.

"Zagaz, Mistress."

"Of course," Osiris replied. "One of Bastet's treacherous servants; and more treacherous than most. I know that one of those I took into my service at Zagaz was a Tok'ra spy, who has remained hidden all these months; and I know that you are the one who helped this spy to send a message two days past."

"Mistress. I would never..." The pup greedily wolfed down another scrap of meat.

"You allowed one of my servants to send a transmission using the communication sphere on the mothership," Osiris told him. "Which one?"

The man blanched, realising the enormity of his folly. "She...I did not know," he protested.

"She? A woman then? Did she offer you kisses if you would turn your back?" Osiris' eyes narrowed dangerously, and they burned with the Goa'uld's inner fire. "Tell me her name!"

"Natiri!" The man sobbed.

Osiris drew in a sharp breath, and motioned to her handmaiden. The girl took the dish and set it on the ground, out of the puppy's sight. "Find her," Osiris ordered her First Prime, Andjety, who turned and signalled for four of his warriors to follow as he strode from the room.

The puppy whined for attention, licking at the blood still staining Osiris' fingers, and she looked down. "Poor thing," she said. "Are you still hungry?" She turned, and set the animal in front of her throne. In moments, he had scampered around the side of the dais and found the dish once more.

"No!" The Jaffa cried, as the yell hounds lunged at him. They were maddened with hunger, intent on feeding, and with his injuries the man's struggles were evidently so weak that they saw no point in killing him before they began to eat. Osiris sat back on her throne, listening to the screams with a small smile on her face.

"Mistress!" One of the warriors who had left with Andjety dashed back into the fallen throne room, falling to his knees before Osiris.

"Speak," she commanded.

"The girl, Natiri has fled. Andjety is in pursuit."

Osiris merely nodded, apparently satisfied with this result.

*

The girl know as Natiri fled through the forest, cursing the handmaiden's robes that she wore, as ferns slashed at her shins. She held up her arms to ward off the branches that stabbed for her eyes, and tried to ignore the growing discomfort in her feet from the sandals which – while not designed for running – were preferable to going barefoot in this undergrowth.

Behind her she heard the cries of hounds; the trained tracking dogs kept by Andjety rather than the higher cries of the native yell hounds. She cursed the fate that had brought her into Osiris' hands, captured whilst posing as a Jaffa on Zagaz by a Goa'uld who was not afraid to abandon the old ways in favour of new thinking. Many Goa'uld would have sought her with death gliders, or marching lines of Jaffa, or tried to burn her out, and these she knew how to avoid, but not Osiris. She had her hounds, and her warriors had drilled in the forest every day since their arrival to ensure that they knew how to move among the trees and how to watch above and below for an enemy using the branches or ferns as cover.

The Jaffa grew closer, their armour impervious to the whipping assaults of the local fauna, and before long they had closed to firing distance. Here was another area where Osiris had trained her warriors well. Instead of firing wildly on the move, every few yards, one of the Jaffa would crouch and take a careful shot at the fleeing figure, then rise and follow his comrades. Three moved while one fired, allowing her no relief, as energy blasts scorched through the foliage around her.

The girl burst from the trees into a clearing, and hared for the other side, knowing that she could not afford to slow down and change direction, nor to be caught in the open. She was less than ten yards from cover when a staff blast scored a hit in the meat of her back, scorching her through and setting her tumbling to the ground. She rose as quickly as she could, drawing a zat as she turned to face her pursuers, but already feeling the life ebb from her. One Jaffa fell, but the First Prime, Andjety calmly raised his staff and fired a second blast through her shoulder.

The three warriors approached as the girl writhed in pain on the ground. One clutched the leads of the hounds, while the other two held their staffs levelled.

"Tok'ra scum," Andjety hissed. "The God Osiris commands you be brought to her for punishment."

The girl looked around for a way out, but saw none. With stoic calm, she reached into her robe for a long knife; her weapon of last resort. Maybe Osiris would have her raised for questioning, but she would not be captured alive or without a fight. Her eyes burned fiercely. "I will not bow to a false god," she said, lunging awkwardly to her feet.

Andjety pressed the release button, snapping open the tip of his staff, and fired, all at an almost leisurely pace. The blast struck the girl's hip, spinning her half around, but she rallied and kept coming. The Jaffa readied the weapon to fire again, but at that moment a light shone down upon Natiri, and five naquada rings dropped over her as she lurched towards him.

"No!" He shouted, raising his staff weapon to fire on the teltac that appeared overhead, but it was too little, too late, and the Tok'ra was gone.

*

Jacob Carter pushed the teltac to its limits, rocketing clear of the atmosphere of Khonsa and heading into deep space. A glance at the screens told him that a single death glider was pursuing, but Selmak assured him that it had no chance of catching them before they went into hyperspace. Nevertheless, Jacob did not allow himself to feel safe until the scout ship had completed that transition without event, and there was no sign of further pursuit. The Goa'uld had made too many advances lately; a hyperspace capable glider would be no great surprise, and an ambush by a cloaked mothership all too likely.

 _You're stuck in your ways,_ he cautioned Selmak, and not for the first time. _Old assumptions are no longer valid, remember that_.

 _It used to be simpler_ , the Tok'ra groused. _For a thousand years_ we _had the technological edge, because we listened to our hosts_.

 _Well, the Goa'uld have learned their lessons,_ Jacob told him. _And you have to adapt. Don't worry; I'll keep you on your toes. I've never known what to expect_.

Jacob eased off on the engines, set the teltac's autopilot and cranked the proximity sensors to full power. Then he rose, stretched, and went back to the cargo compartment.

 

Anise was tending to the girl's wounds with her usual cool efficiency. Although no doctor, her researches and her 'inside knowledge' had given the Tok'ra scientist a thorough grounding in human anatomy. Her bedside manner however, was sorely lacking.

"How did you survive on Bubastis?" She demanded. "Why stay out of contact so long? Why break your silence now?"

"For God's sake, Anise," Jacob said. "Give the kid a break. Talitha may be a hardened field operative, but her host is barely out of childhood, and in case you hadn't notice, just got shot three times." He shook his head in wonder. "I'm amazed she's alive at all.

"Her wounds will heal," Anise assured him. "And we must know what was so important to her."

"Anise..."

"No," the girl gasped, in a pained tone. "She is right..." Her eyes flared briefly, and she continued in a stronger voice, with the undertones shared by Goa'uld and Tok'ra. "In case I do not make it," she insisted. "You must know this."

Jacob sat beside her, and took her hand in a gentle grip. He had done as much for dying soldiers a few more times than he cared to remember.

"Anubis," the Tok'ra said. "He may be close to finding..." She coughed blood, and Jacob wiped her mouth with a cloth. "The _Wadjet_."

*

Andjety returned to the throne room of Ashmunein with a heavy step. The two yell hounds were finishing their meal, cracking the bones of the Jaffa with powerful jaws to get at his marrow. One had killed the prim'ta in the man's belly with a swift bite, but they fastidiously refused to eat the worm-like creature, or any of the flesh touched by its blood.

"Where is the girl?" Osiris asked.

"She...A Tok'ra scout vessel rescued her. She was mortally wounded, but..."

"But she escaped you, to report all she knows of my mission here to the Tok'ra Council and the Tau'ri."

Andjety quailed before Osiris' gaze. "Yes, Mistress," he replied, knowing better than to beg forgiveness.

"Excellent," Osiris said.

"Mistress?" Andjety was shocked.

Osiris turned to her handmaiden. "Return to the ship and sound the summoning call. Secure for launch; we leave at noon, leaving anyone who has not returned. Also, inform Lord Anubis that our mission here has been compromised and we are removing our presence; I shall confer with him at his pleasure."

"Yes, Mistress," the woman replied, moving away behind the kneeling warrior.

"Andjety?" Osiris said.

"Yes, Mistress?"

"I have no room in my service for those who fail."

Andjety opened his mouth in a gasp of pain and surprise as the handmaiden drove a long knife into his back, severing his spine. She caught hold of him around the neck as he tried to rise, and pushed the blade deeper.

Osiris smiled benignly at her dying First Prime. "You have served me well, and are forgiven," she told him.

The handmaiden twisted her knife free, and dropped the corpse, letting it slump to the ground. She bent and wiped the blade on the back of Andjety's tunic, before sliding it back into its scabbard, artfully concealed in the ornamentation of her robe. At a signal from her mistress, she gathered the leashes of the two sated yell hounds. "Should I have him returned to the ship, Mistress?" She asked.

"Leave him for the scavengers," Osiris commanded. "None must know that his failure served my purpose," she cautioned, darkly.

"As you command, Mistress," the handmaiden replied, aware of the threat in Osiris' words.

"Arrange for the best of my warriors to compete for his place," the Goa'uld added. "It would not do for Lord Anubis' right hand to be without a First Prime."

"Yes, Mistress." The handmaiden tugged on the leashes, and led the two hounds away.

Osiris stood for a moment, then snapped her fingers at hip height. The yell hound pup bounded up to her, yapping happily. "Come along, Daniel," the Goa'uld said. "There is nothing more for us in this place."

She consciously made no effort to avoid Andjety's corpse, treading hard on his back as she walked across him towards her ship.

*

_Earth  
One day later_

Colonel Jack O'Neill and Major Sam Carter drove out to the airfield to meet the Tok'ra vessel. Their arrival was unexpected, but not entirely unwelcome.

"Dad," Sam greeted her father with a hug.

"Hey, Sam," Jacob returned. "Hi, Jack."

"Jacob," Jack returned, cautiously. "Always a pleasure."

Jacob smiled. "You remember Freya-Anise?"

"How could I forget?" Jack asked, standing a little awkwardly as he allowed the woman to rest her hand on his shoulders and plant a soft kiss on his cheek. She appeared to have eschewed her usual taste in clothes for a black robe, with a hood that completely covered her hair. "Nice burhka," he said.

"It is the traditional garb of mourning among Freya's people," Anise replied, coolly. "We have not had a chance before to tell you how sorry we were to hear about Daniel Jackson," she added.

"That's...thanks," Jack replied, not trusting himself to speak further.

The woman closed her eyes for a moment. "Please be kind," Freya begged. "Anise's grief is genuine, although she tries to hide it. She has a great fear of displaying her emotions to the world."

"That must make things interesting for you two," Jack noted, with genuine sympathy.

Freya gave a melancholy smile, but before she could reply, Jacob interrupted. "It's great to see you two crazy kids getting along," he said. "Unfortunately our business here won't wait on pleasantries." He gestured behind him to a second woman, barely more than a girl. "This is Talitha."

"Greetings to you," Talitha said. She had dark skin, and wore a tattered robe of simple design, but once-fine fabric. Her green eyes were haunted, and she reminded Jack of no-one so much as Sharbat Gula; the Afghan girl from the National Geographic cover.

"And to you," Sam replied. Jack just scowled, evidently not happy to hear the Tok'ra voice emerge from that childish mouth.

"We should go back to the Mountain," Jacob said. "George needs to hear what we have to say."

*

General George Hammond sat pensively in the briefing room. While a visit from Jacob was as welcome for him as for Sam, and while he did not share Jack's deep, instinctual mistrust of their allies, it was certainly true that the Tok'ra rarely made social calls. Sam sat beside her father, Jack between General Hammond and Anise, while Talitha, her shoulders rounded in awkward fear, sat facing Jack on Hammond's far side. Anticipating that the Tok'ra would require the SGC's assistance, Hammond had already ordered that Teal'c be recalled from visiting his son, and Jonas Quinn from his research expedition with SG-11.

"So," Jack began. "What can we do for you this time?"

Jacob smiled, then closed his eyes. "Actually, Colonel O'Neill," Selmak said. "This time, it is what we can do for you. As you know, recent events have forced the Tok'ra to withdraw all of the undercover operatives not already lost to us. However, we still have a number of sympathisers and informants in the service of the System Lords; mostly humans, and a few Jaffa."

"And they've told you something," Sam guessed. "Something that affects Earth?"

"That is correct," Selmak agreed. "Anise?"

The Tok'ra woman bowed her head. "We received a transmission from a Jaffa in the service of a minor Goa'uld, named Athena."

Jack raised his hand.

"Yes, Jack?" Anise said.

"I'm fairly sure someone once told us that she was dead," Jack said, looking meaningfully at Jacob.

"So sue me," the old soldier replied, lapsing back into his human voice.

"It appears that our intelligence on the matter was incorrect," Anise agreed. "This informer was raised to serve the System Lord Svarog, but after Svarog's death, an unknown Goa'uld took command of a large number of his surviving forces before the other System Lords could lay claim to them. We have now learned from the informer that this Goa'uld was Athena. It appears that she has been gathering strength in this manner for some time now; a little here and a little there, until she has amassed a formidable armada."

"When you say formidable?" Hammond asked.

"At least six Ha'tak vessels," Anise replied. "Probably more, including Athena's command vessel, the _Parthenon_. With that number of attack ships, we estimate that she must control between eight- and twenty-thousand troops; possibly not all Jaffa, but if Athena is their mistress, all will be well-trained. In addition, she will have access to a number of smaller support vessels such as death gliders, al-kesh and an-kesh bombers, and possibly some of the new Ha'kal gunships."

"What's an an-kesh?" Sam asked.

"Long-range heavy bomber," Jacob answered. "Makes the al-kesh look like a box kite. Not very manoeuvrable though; they're usually sent in after a wave of al-kesh have softened up the enemy's air defences."

Jack raised a worried eyebrow. "Can they cloak?"

Jacob shrugged. "They never used to."

"I don't find that very comforting," Jack admitted. "Also, I don't like that you say this concerns Earth."

Anise looked grim. "The one goal that has eluded even Anubis is the destruction of the Tau'ri," she said. "Despite the promise made to the System Lords at the summit, he has consistently proven unable to end the threat that you pose. However much the other Goa'uld fear him, that hurts his credibility. Athena doesn't have anything like the strength to challenge Anubis, but if she could succeed in this, where he has failed, it could bring enough of the System Lords over to her side to tip the balance."

"What about Anubis' technological edge?" Sam asked.

Jacob shrugged. "Technology is where the playing field is rocky all over," he admitted. "For centuries battles between the Goa'uld have been based on numbers and terrain; the technology was even. Now, with Anubis' arrival and the advances made by Apophis in the years before his death, that is no longer true. Certainly, Anubis has a greater reserve of technology than any other Goa'uld, and numbers alone won't win the battle against him, but Athena is an innovator. She might not be able to create new technologies herself, but she's not above employing humans who can. She is also a master strategist; something few other Goa'uld can lay claim to."

"And this is the woman who wants to kill us all?" Jack asked.

"One of the many," Jacob agreed.

Jack nodded. "So what's the plan?" He asked. "I assume you have one, right? What is it this time? Gate on board the command ship? Another neurotoxin? The old black-hole-Stargate-and-supernova ploy?"

Anise shook her head. "As far as we know, there is no Stargate on board any of the vessels, and even if there were, they are mustering in the Aksos nebula. The nebula was formed when a supermassive comet smashed into the third and only inhabitable planet in the Aksos system. If a Gate address for that planet exists, it was lost long ago. Athena appears to be loading troops and materiel using barques – long-range heavy transports – which, while making her position difficult to assault, does buy us some time."

"To do what?" Sam asked. "Since we lost Cronus' mothership we don't have anything capable of assaulting a fleet like that. I suppose that we could stow away on one of the barques, and..."

"Athena is too cunning for that to work," Jacob assured his daughter. "No; what the Tok'ra feel is needed is an act of monumental, overwhelming force."

"Well, see," Jack said. "There's a problem with that, being that we have one – count 'em – vessel capable of interstellar travel." He paused in thought a moment. "And that doesn't work."

Anise smiled. "Here is where fortune appears to have been on our side for once. A course of action has emerged that may allow you to acquire the forces needed to defend your world from Athena, and strike a blow against Anubis at the same time," she said.

"I hate it when they do this," Jack said.

"How?" Hammond asked.

Jacob took up the account. "We received word of the attack when we were already en route to a planet called Khonsa, in response to a transmission from Talitha. She had indicated that she had gained vital information from her infiltration mission, but needed immediate extraction."

"Khonsa," Sam said. "That's the name of P8C-236."

"Do you have that entire database memorised?" Jack asked her.

"Yes, Sir."

"That's my girl," Jacob said, proudly.

"Back up a little," Jack said. "I thought that you extracted all of your Tok'ra operatives already?"

"We did," Jacob replied. "All the ones that weren't dead. Until a few days ago, we thought that Talitha was one of the latter."

"I was able to move to this host and escape death," Talitha explained. "And I have been in deep cover ever since, seeking a way to put enough distance between myself and the Goa'uld to seek assistance. I was forced to surface however, when I learned that Anubis was seeking the _Wadjet_."

The three humans looked blank.

"The _Wadjet_ ," Jacob explained. "Was a Goa'uld battleship of singular power, lost centuries ago. Many Goa'uld have sought to find and control it, but to date only a handful of its support vessels have ever been located."

"About eight months ago, I fell into the employ of Anubis' right hand, Osiris," Talitha went on. "Recently, she began to seek out palaces once belonging to the ancient Goa'uld, Thoth, scrutinising every writing and relief carving, because she had learned that Thoth was the only one of the System Lords privy to the location of Sekhmet's tomb."

"Sekhmet?" Jack asked. "I thought it was called the...Whatsit?"

"Sekhmet was the commander of the _Wadjet_ ," Talitha explained. "Her name means 'She-who-is-powerful', and she was feared as one of the most deadly of Ra's generals. She betrayed him, however, and Thoth imprisoned her. When he did that, the _Wadjet_ disappeared. If her resting place can be found, then it may be possible to trick her into fighting Athena for us; or if not, to wrest control of the ship from her."

Jack scratched his head, distractedly. "This all sounds nuts to me," he said. "Even before factoring in that we do have a bad history with the resting places of ancient Goa'uld."

"That's okay, Jack," Jacob assured him. "We're not asking you to go."

"You're not?"

"No," Anise agreed. "We're asking for Amy Kawalsky."

*

"Why me?" Amy Kawalsky asked, confused.

"Tell me what you know about Khonsa?" Anise asked.

Amy furrowed her brow in concentration. "One of Thoth's great strongholds; he built the palace of Ashmunein there." Her frown dissolved into a smile. "The walls were made from white marble quarried on the planet Nazire, and decorated with woven cloths from many worlds, arranged so as to form a symbolic map of the territories he controlled. The roof was made of gold. From the Stargate you could see the city shining like a beacon, all the time; there were three moons, so there was always enough light.

"The palace was filled with people," Amy went on. "Hundreds of warriors, hundreds of scholars and thousands of servants. There were pools and fountains, orchards and arbours; it was widely held to be the most beautiful city in existence. There was a great library – the most complete in all the galaxy since the departure of the Ancients – and a museum filled with artefact of thousands of races. There was a great tower, clad in ivory, that dominated the skyline; the Tower of Ma'at.

"The throne room floor was a mosaic showing a map of the galaxy, with the domains of the System Lords marked out. When the borders moved he had the map re-laid overnight, and..." Amy broke off, shivering. "And I've never been to this place in my life."

"They must be Thoth's memories," Sam said. "We knew that you were able to sense Goa'uld symbiotes; it makes sense that you would have retained some of his genetic memory as well."

"And you want me to go into those memories and find out where he hid Sekhmet?" Amy asked Anise.

The Tok'ra nodded. "We will use a memory device to help you," she added.

"You don't understand," Amy said. "I've known for some time that I inherited Thoth's memories, but I've been putting all my strength into keeping them buried. These memories aren't like Jolinar's. Thoth wasn't a Tok'ra. He might have turned out okay, but he spent millennia as a tyrant in the service of Asar, Sokar, and then Ra. The Tower of Ma'at I described just now: It was a prison built to hold the woman he loved until she submitted to him. That was his idea of a nifty Valentine gift!" Amy looked scared; more so than Jack had ever seen.

"There's no pressure," Jack said. "If you don't want to do it, then we'll find another way."

"You understand that this is the future of your entire world?" Anise asked her.

"No pressure," Jack repeated, scowling at the Tok'ra.

"You know..." Amy's voice quavered. She took a deep, steadying breath and looked Anise in the eye. "You know what darkness lies in your own memories, but that is nothing to a real Goa'uld. There are a number of techniques that can be used to selectively manipulate genetic memory; isn't that right?"

"I have heard of them," Anise admitted, evasively. "But never in any detail."

Selmak snorted, derisively. "You're suggesting that the memories of the Tok'ra were...neutered?"

"Actually, no," Amy admitted. "Although since you bring it up..."

Jack raised an eyebrow at the three Tok'ra, who awkwardly avoided his gaze.

Anise spoke up, albeit reluctantly. "Queen Egeria _may_ have employed such a technique to censor the memories that she passed to her offspring; specifically those relating to actions that she performed during her time among the System Lords. None of the Tok'ra can be certain of this, however, as if she did this, she removed the memory of the procedure as well."

Amy nodded. "Thoth did much the same thing before he ascended from my body. He knew that the genetic material he left within my blood stream would carry many of his memories, so he suppressed a great many of them to protect my spirit."

"They are just memories," Anise assured her. "They are not the experiences that shaped you."

"Daniel Jackson was one of the gentlest men I ever knew," Amy said. "And given access to Goa'uld memories, he would have been a bloody-handed tyrant."

Anise flinched, and Amy knew that blow had struck home.

"You can't know that," Jack protested, defending his friend.

"I can; because _he_ did," Amy replied. "I can't say much more, because I know he never told anyone else the details of what Shifu showed to him, but trust me; Goa'uld memories are not something that you want to have running around in your brain. Not just that the knowledge of the Harcesis would turn him bad, but that the memories would turn him into one of them."

"This is not the knowledge of a Harcesis," Anise assured Amy. "It is neither so complete, nor so coherent."

"But it is the knowledge of the Goa'uld," Sam replied. "And even the Tok'ra memories Jolinar left in me made me susceptible to the influence of the Tomb of Asar. I almost killed or alienated my entire team under that influence."

"We will monitor you," Anise promised. "The recall will be selective, and we should be able to use a similar procedure to help you suppress any uncomfortable memories once their usefulness is expended. Please, trust me, Captain Kawalsky. We would not ask this if it were not of paramount importance."

"I hate this plan," Jack said, bluntly.

"I need to think about it," Amy replied. "General Hammond?"

"Take your time," Hammond said, gently. "But not too much. Let me know once you've made your decision."

"Thank you, Sir."

"Dismissed," Hammond said, and Amy left the briefing room. "The rest of you, start exploring other options."

*

"Colonel!"

Jack turned, and saw Freya following him along the corridor. He was in a bad mood for company, especially that of a Tok'ra, but he forced himself to smile politely. "What can I do for you?" He asked, brightly, continuing in the same breezy tone: "Taken as read that I won't try to talk Kawalsky into doing this if she doesn't want to, and that if you try and kiss me right now, I'll probably slug you."

Freya pushed back the hood of her robe and gave him a coy smile. "It isn't that," she said, becoming serious again. "I wanted to talk to you about the plan."

"If you call that a plan," Jack quipped.

"Well, that's what I would like to talk to you about," Freya agreed. "You have made it plain that you are concerned that the plan will fail."

Jack sighed. "Look; I like the idea of grabbing a killer warship that Anubis wanted to use on us and turning it on the Goa'uld as much as anyone. Just the idea of it takes me to a very happy place. But I figured out not so long ago that some weapons are too damn big for anyone to have. Besides which, even I Kawalsky can find Sekhmet for you, how do you plan to get control of the _Wassup_? If Thoth couldn't, I doubt it's as easy as going through her jacket for the keys."

"The _Wadjet_ is powerful," Freya confirmed. "But it is of a different order to the _Naglfar_. It is not a planet killer or super-weapon, merely a most effective starship. As to your other concern; Thoth reasoned with her once. She was too powerful to be beaten down, too cunning to be ambushed; he had to defeat her with words."

"And? But? Therefore?"

"If he could do it once, Amy can do it again," Freya insisted.

"So now you don't just want to rip open Kawalsky's mind to get at the goo inside, you want to send her into the lion's den?" Jack snorted in disgust. "Look; this Goa'uld has been locked away for all these years. I doubt she's going to listen to reason, especially not from someone who was host to the guy that put her there. Even if she is, what on Earth makes you think that Amy, Thoth or anyone else can bamboozle a Goa'uld into risking her neck to fight a war on someone else's behalf?"

"Well; that's complicated," Freya admitted. "Anise could explain it better than..."

"No," Jack insisted. "I want to hear it from you. In here," he added, taking her elbow and steering her into the commissary, where he got them two cups of coffee and sent Freya to find a table. The small and vulnerable expression on her face when surrounded by several dozen working airmen and women almost made Jack feel he should be nicer to her; almost.

"We couldn't go somewhere quieter?" Freya asked.

"I like drinking my coffee while I talk, and I like having my coffee in here," Jack told her. "Now, talk."

Freya sipped her commissary coffee and grimaced. "Alright," she said. "As you know, many symbiotes eschew the pursuit of direct power politics, in favour of other disciplines. These includes scientists like Nirrti – or Anise, although that comparison is unflattering – and torturers such as Terok. In Nirrti's case, she obviously pursued political goals as well, to her ultimate disadvantage. Goa'uld who focus on the martial arts are rarer," she went on. "But they do exist. Among these were a number of Goa'uld who set themselves up as warrior-goddesses, including Sekhmet."

"Uh-huh." Jack nodded in understanding, although really he was in serious danger of zoning out. He had learned – mostly – not to interrupt this kind of exposition, but to sit back and let it roll over him.

"One unusual thing about Goa'uld warriors is that they develop an empathy for their fellow fighters; their enemies as well as the Jaffa they battle alongside. This in turn leads many to develop more rigorous codes of personal conduct than most System Lords, which typically prevent them ever achieving real power. These codes are similar to the codes of honour practiced by various martial orders on your world, in that they are usually strict, brutal, and somewhat arbitrary."

"And Sekhmet has a code?" Jack asked.

"A _very_ strict code," Freya agreed. "She refused to attack non-combatants; that was why she fell from favour in the first place."

"And you think this will compel her to act in Earth's defence?"

Freya bit her lip, nervously. "Not necessarily. My research has always suggested that Thoth knew and understood her code enough to use it against her. That was how he reasoned with her, by understanding her mind. However," she added, cautiously. "There is only one account of Sekhmet actually opposing another Goa'uld to enforce her own principles upon him. The _Wadjet_ acted – in defiance of Ra's will – against another Goa'uld's fleet to defend a planet of apparently minimal strategic value. This Goa'uld had amassed a mighty army, and Ra feared to anger him with opposition. Sekhmet decimated the armada and robbed him of that chance to topple Ra."

"He must've been pretty pissed off," Jack commented.

"He was. That Goa'uld was always noted for his cruelty, but after that...he became something even the other System Lords feared, on a deeply visceral level."

"Wait a minute," Jack said, smelling a rat. "You're talking about Mr Shiny, right?"

"Anubis; yes," Freya confirmed.

"Well anyway; that's good; right? That Sekhmet defended the planet?"

Freya shrugged. "It was later learned that Anubis had sought a weapon of cataclysmic power on the seemingly unimportant world," she admitted. "The sort of weapon that, as you say, no-one should have. If Sekhmet knew this, then it puts a very different complexion on the incident. Also, it is possible that she had some personal vendetta against Anubis; by that point, most of the System Lords did. In that case..."

"In that case, she might not be opposed to Athena striking a blow against Anubis." Jack nodded. "And in any case, don't we also risk just putting another Goa'uld heavy-hitter in play?"

"It is our hope that, assuming Captain Kawalsky is not able to take control of the _Wadjet_ herself, then once Sekhmet is done with Athena, neither will be a substantial threat," Freya replied. "With luck, the victor can be eliminated with even the limited capacity for interstellar warfare possessed by the Tau'ri and Tok'ra."

"I don't like plans that rely on luck," Jack told her.

Freya reached out and covered his hand with her own. "Every plan relies on luck," she told him. "Although Anise would like to think otherwise. Please, trust me Jack; I would not ask Amy to do this thing, if I did not think that it was necessary. I would also not ask if I did not believe that she was strong enough to survive the experience."

Jack frowned. "No offence, but you have a much wider definition of acceptable risk than I do."

"That comes from the life I chose when I joined with Anise." She gave his hand a gentle squeeze, then stood, setting her half-empty mug on the table. "Next time," she said. "I'll bring the coffee."

*

Teal'c looked up as he left the state of kelno'reem, and saw Amy Kawalsky sitting opposite him. He had arrived at the SGC a little less than two hours ago, only to learn that his return might not have been necessary after all, but had chosen to remain in case the situation should change.

"I envy your calm," she told him. "The way you can just let things wash over you and keep thinking clearly."

"I have had nearly a century to hone that ability, Captain Kawalsky." Teal'c reminded her.

Amy nodded her understanding. "Sorry to just barge in like this," she said.

Teal'c inclined his head in acknowledgment of the apology. "What may I do for you?" He asked.

"I need your advice," she said.

"This is not a decision that anyone else can make for you," Teal'c told Amy. "The matter in hand involves the sanctity and stability of your mind; only you can judge whether you have the strength to go through with it."

"But if I don't," she said. "I could be dooming the entire planet. Do I have the right to do that?"

Teal'c thought for a moment. "Captain Kawalsky; you know that the thing that I value most in the world is freedom. If you can not refuse to allow another to tamper with your very thoughts, then what freedom can you claim to enjoy? No-one has a claim on you strong enough to demand this," he told her. "And there is no claim that gives a right to ask it, except those that you have freely accepted. If you feel it is your duty to do this, then it is only you that makes it so."

"So you think I should say no?" Amy sounded confused.

"I think that you would not be asking me these questions if you did not already know that you would say yes."

Amy sighed. "You're right of course," she said. "But I'm afraid."

"I have seen you display great strength and courage before now," Teal'c assured her. "If this can be done, I believe you to be strong enough to do it."

"And if I'm not?"

Teal'c looked across into the young human's eyes, gauging her soul with a leader's skill. "If you wish it," he said. "I will be there with you."

"Please," Amy replied. She sounded relieved not to have to ask, and Teal'c knew that she probably would not have known how. "I feel maybe I should ask Colonel O'Neill, or Colonel Feretti or Major Patterson," she added. "I'd trust any of them with my life, but...I don't know if I could rely on them; not for this."

Teal'c stood, and Amy with him. He reached out, and clasped her shoulder in his firm grip. "I have walked that path," he assured her. "You may rely on me."

*

Anise did not feel that restraints were necessary, but Amy insisted. "It's not like I've never been tied down before," she assured the Tok'ra. "Just never by a woman."

Sam raised an eyebrow. "Always the quiet ones," she whispered to Jack.

Jack looked shocked, but he gave a short laugh. "If it was _always_ the quiet ones, wouldn't that mean that Daniel..." He stopped, and he and Sam shuddered in unison.

"Thanks for that image," Sam replied.

Jack and Sam were standing at the observation window with Jacob and General Hammond, while Dr Fraiser stood by the chair to monitor Amy's vitals. Teal'c stood by the door to the operating room, staff weapon in hand.

"Teal'c; is that really necessary?" Jack asked.

"I asked him to bring it," Amy called up. "There's a risk I may get violent."

"Wouldn't a zat be enough?"

"Colonel," Amy said. "There's something of the order of five millennia of Thoth's memories in here – not counting almost as much again of being trapped in an ice floe – against only twenty seven of home-grown Amy Kawalsky. Now, if I start acting funny, I can probably be helped, but if I lose my sense of self in there, even for a moment, I'm never coming back. I don't want to live that way a second longer than I have to."

"What? Wait!" Anise paused at Jack's outburst.

"Carry on," General Hammond said.

"General!"

"This is how Captain Kawalsky wants to do things," Hammond said, with a trace of regret. "Now, military protocol is frankly a little hazy in situations like this, and while I won't allow Teal'c to fire unless I truly believe her to be irretrievable, I feel that I have to respect her wishes in this matter."

"He's right, Colonel," Sam added, knowing that it was easier for her to be rational than it was for her CO. She respected Amy Kawalsky as a soldier and an academic, but she did not share Jack's personal attachment to the young woman. "When we were in Kôr, the feeling inside me was...I'd sooner die than be like that all the time."

"We shall do everything in our power to keep it from coming to that," Freya promised. "Even if it means sacrificing vital information."

Jack forced a smile. "Are you speaking for both of you on that?"

"I am; although Anise is less than happy with me for doing so." The Tok'ra finished setting up her zatarc detector, and aligned the eyepiece. Then she attached a bio-monitor to Amy's chest, linked to a display device held by Dr Fraiser, and a memory device to her temple.

Amy winced as the device jabbed home, but did not cry out. "You know what to look for?" She asked, trying hard to mask her uncertainty.

"Elevated epinephrine levels," Fraiser replied. "Increased body temperature and heart rate, fall in electrical resistance and, most importantly, increased energy emissions from the naquada in your blood."

"In addition," Anise said. "We will be using the Zatarc detector and the sensors in the memory recall device to monitor your brainwaves for signs that you are acting under the influence of Thoth's memories. If I detect any such signs, we will..." She paused for a moment, as though struggling with herself; or perhaps with Freya. "We will stop the procedure," she finished at last, adding: "At least temporarily."

Amy nodded. "Is this thing going to be broadcasting?" She asked.

"If you have no objections," Anise said. "That way if..." She broke off.

"If I wig out and go psycho, you guys might still have the information you need to pull this off," Amy finished. "Don't worry; I approve. I'm in no hurry to die, but if and when I go I'd like it to mean something."

Jack winced to hear the young woman talk that way. "Can we just get on with this?" He asked. Anise looked questioningly at her subject.

"Ready when you are," Amy said.

"Very well," Anise said, activating the Zatarc detector. She studied the readouts for a few moments, calibrating the machines to Amy's neutral mental state. "We are ready to begin," she announced. "You will feel some initial disorientation as the recall device aligns with your unique brain wave profile," she cautioned. Amy nodded her understanding. "I am switching on the memory recall device...now."

Amy flinched as a small shock prickled the skin of her temple. "Okay," she said. "So how long will this take to...Nyagh!"

"Kawalsky!" O'Neill's voice snapped out over the intercom.

"I...I'm okay, Colonel," she replied. "It's just...I'll be alright in a minute."

As she spoke, the Tok'ra holographic viewing device shimmered into life, images from Amy's memory dancing before them. The scene shifted constantly, her mind seemingly too dazed to focus on any single event, although certain faces dominated: Her mother, Angela; her late brother, Charles; Daniel. Then there were other images, clearly _not_ from Amy's experiences: A magnificent city, the Ashmunein of Amy's description; armies marching and fighting; fire, war and death; and a woman whose face seemed to stir the heart in a strange, inexpressible way.

At last the images settled, and the watchers were treated to a replaying of Anise setting up the machines to monitor Amy.

"It's not like I've never been tied up before," the memory Amy was saying.

"Off!" The here and now Amy cried, and Anise complied, deactivating the screen.

"Are you in discomfort?" The Tok'ra asked, solicitously.

"I'm good," Amy assured her. "There were just some memories coming I'd rather the people I work with didn't see," she admitted.

Anise smiled. "I'm sure we all have some of those. Don't worry; the memory device is set to only show those memories you wish to display. Now that the alignment is complete, you must focus on a scene for it to be visible to the rest of us. Once you get your bearings back I'll reactivate the viewer, and we can proceed."

"Amy?" Jack asked.

"Yes, Sir?"

"Who was the woman? Everyone up here says they recognised her, but we can't seem to remember who she is."

Amy frowned. "The woman? Oh, you mean Ma'at? Dark hair, makes you feel kind of safe and special and good about yourself."

"That's the one," Sam said. "Who is she?"

"Thoth's one true love," Amy replied. "One of the Others; like Oma Desala, or Daniel. I met her in Ultima Thule."

"So why do we recognise her?" Jack asked.

"I haven't really worked that part out yet," Amy admitted. "I'll let you know. Recognising her seems to be considered a good thing," she added.

"I did not recognise her," Anise said, sounding somewhat disgruntled. "Nor did Freya."

"Nor I," Teal'c assured her.

"Neither did Selmak," Jacob added. "Although I did."

"Weird," Amy said. "Maybe it's an Earth thing. Oh well; I'm as ready as I'm going to be. View me."

"The screen is active," Anise confirmed. "Let us begin with something simple and recent. Perhaps Thoth's memory of emerging from hibernation."

Amy frowned in concentration. "It's difficult. His memories after he began to unravel the secrets of the Others become garbled, as though...As though they were in a foreign language."

"A different mode of thought?" Sam suggested.

"Possibly. Hang on...Yes. When he arrived in Antarctica, he realised that his heating devices had been damaged, and his host's time was therefore short. He had neither the time nor the strength to activate the Gate in the way he needed to; nor could he go back for more heaters, as the DHD was encased in ice. He introduced a chemical into Hermes' body which induced a hibernation state, as well as preserving the body's cells against freeze damage. The body retained enough life to support him, although after only about a century Hermes would never have been able to survive being thawed.

"Then, when we defrosted him at the Beta Facility..."

The viewing device shimmered into life, showing simple blackness. After a moment, this became tinged with red, and a moment later a flickering silhouette appeared, barely brighter than the background; soon it was joined by another.

"What the hell is that?" Jack asked.

"A visual approximation of a Goa'uld symbiote's perception of the world," Jacob replied. "What we're seeing is two people standing near to the Goa'uld."

One of the silhouette's vanished from the display, and the point of view shifted. The screen flared and resolved back to its original shade, but the silhouette was now notably brighter. A second flare left it clearer still.

"That's the symbiote emerging from the host and moving aside some kind of covering," Jacob explained. "It's sensed that a potential host is alone, and..." The view rushed towards the silhouette, and there was a blur of movement. Amy shuddered as though in pain, and the image cut out.

"Are you alright?" Janet asked.

"Just remembering," Amy assured her. "I got in a glancing cut as he came at me, and then he was burrowing into the back of my throat." She laughed, sharply. "Guess I should have kept my trap shut. How're my readings?" She asked.

"Still good," Janet replied. "Your heart rate and epinephrine levels are up a little, but no more than I'd expect from reliving a memory like that."

"Shall we proceed?" Anise asked.

"Yes," Amy replied.

Anise nodded. "Then try to remember something about Sekhmet."

Amy closed her eyes, and the viewer came on again. A tall figure, dressed in Goa'uld armour, stood in the upper levels of a mothership, surrounded by Horus Guards. Despite the armour, the figure was distinctly feminine, and her face was covered by a helmet in the shape of a lion's head; a design that none of the watchers were familiar with. She clearly stood alone, as each of the warriors held a staff weapon trained on her, armed only with a hand device, and a short, heavy-bladed sword.

"Sekhmet." The voice came from 'off screen', and did not bear the Goa'uld resonance. "By the authority of Emperor Ra, Supreme System Lord of the Goa'uld Empire, I order you to surrender yourself for judgement."

The figure reached up and touched the side of her collar, causing the helm to retract from a face that was as beautiful as any Goa'uld's, yet twisted by a feral rage that was incredible to behold. Her appearance was quite singular, because the tawny gold of her hair, the dusky bronze of her skin and the pale brown of her eyes were of almost identical hue. Coupled with the wildness of her expression, this served to make her human face almost as leonine as the helm that covered it.

"For what crime?" Sekhmet demanded, in a voice as smooth as silk, but utterly cold and deadly. The observers shivered, reminded once more how much more terrible the rage of the Goa'uld seemed when coupled with the physical beauty and perfection of the hosts that they chose.

"This is not the way," another Goa'uld said, and the view turned to face a man in an Anubis mask.

"It is Ra's order," Anubis insisted, stepping forward. "You will come with us, Sekhmet, to answer for your refusal to obey Ra's commands."

The view swung back to the woman. "Take me if you can," she invited, throwing out a hand and unleashing a shockwave from her hand device. The view swept upwards as Thoth was knocked over, and the sound of screaming could be heard.

Thoth levered himself to a sitting position, only to see Sekhmet crouching over him, her bloody sword naked in her hand. Behind her, he could see the remains of the Horus Guards, and with her other hand she clutched Anubis by the throat, his helm brutally sliced open. Ra's First Prime twitched and jerked uncontrollably as the Goa'uld strangled the life from him.

Sekhmet wiped her sword on Thoth's robe, sheathed the blade, and laid her now-free hand on Thoth's chest to hold him still. "Return to Ra, my dear Brother," she told him. "And say that as his will is corrupt, Sekhmet no longer answers to his word." She stood, and tossed the lifeless Jaffa to the floor.

"Epinephrine and naquada-energy levels rising," Janet cautioned. Amy was breathing hard, feeling Thoth's fear.

"Cognitive dissonance is increasing," Anise agreed. The viewer shut off as she deactivated the recall device.

"I just wanna thank you," Amy told the Tok'ra, dripping sarcasm. "This is so much fun it's freaky."

"We can stop for a while if you would like," Anise offered.

"Just give me a few minutes again," Amy replied.

"Amy?" Sam asked.

"Yes, Captain?"

"I don't know if you could tell, but when she said 'brother'...?"

Amy shook her head as much as she could. "She didn't mean it literally. They were 'family' because they served Ra; even though Thoth was older than the Sun God. Sekhmet was much younger; Ra's daughter on Hathor. She was the favourite until she became...unstable."

"Was that what we were seeing?" Jack asked. "Her becoming unstable?"

"No, I think that was a while afterwards. She began by disobeying orders: Killing people Ra wanted spared; sparing people he wanted killed; attacking System Lords he wanted to leave well alone. She didn't actually reject him until after he raised his other children above her."

"What was Thoth's impression of Sekhmet?" Anise asked.

"He admired her strength and integrity," Amy replied. "And her beauty, of course. He was very, very scared of her though, and seems to have been determined never to underestimate her. He also knew that any attempt to strong-arm her would just end up with a lot of dead strong-arms.

"When he came back with Sekhmet's message, Ra charged Thoth with her capture. He wasn't too happy about it, but...Ah! No, I can't seem to touch any more of it," Amy admitted. "Plug me in again; let's see if we can chase up what he did to catch her."

"You should rest a little longer," Anise said. "Until your neural activity stabilises completely."

Amy looked alarmed. "My neural activity is _unstable_ ?"

"It is nothing to worry about," Anise assured her. "Just a little dissonance between your own memories and those locked in Thoth's genetic material. We should allow time for this to settle however, or we risk compounding the anomalies."

"You're the expert," Amy agreed.

"We'll try another memory," Anise suggested. "If we go back to the same one, we risk reinforcing it too strongly. We'll try maybe two more this time; after that you should have a real rest. The memory recall device is not gentle, and you will need to sleep before our next session."

"Whoa!" Jack objected. " _Next_ session?"

"We are looking for precise and deeply buried memories," Anise explained. "It may take several attempts to uncover the information we seek. To attempt to speed the process would endanger Amy's mind."

Amy sighed. "I'm so glad I joined the SGC," she said.

*

_Two days later_

Jack and Sam were summoned to the briefing room at 0900 hours. They met Jacob in the corridor and found Teal'c, Anise and Amy waiting for them with the General. Amy looked rough, as though she had been getting too little sleep, but otherwise well, considering what she had been subjecting herself to. In the past forty-eight hours, she had been under examination nine times, for a total of about eight hours. Jack had been unable to watch all of every session – both because of his other duties and because he found it too painful – but he had seen her brought to tears and driven to a rage by the memories being dug out of her mind by the Tok'ra's probe.

"You okay, Kawalsky?" Jack asked, flashing Anise a dirty look.

"I'm fine, Colonel," Amy promised. "Or will be once I've had a good night's sleep."

"Did you manage to learn what we needed?" Sam asked.

Anise nodded. "We were successful in learning the location of Sekhmet's tomb," she confirmed. "We were however warned against attempting to wake her."

Jack frowned. "Warned by who?"

"By Thoth," Amy replied. "He seems to have ingrained the warning into his memory for the sake of any of his children who might be tempted to wake her up."

"Are you prepared to go ahead with the mission?" General Hammond asked. "Or would you recommend an abort?"

Amy sighed. "Both," she said. "And neither. My gut feeling is that waking Sekhmet is a Very Bad Idea, TM. On the other hand, if we don't have any other options, I'm prepared to risk it. At the worst, we'll be adding another player to the game, and one that won't favour the other Goa'uld any more than us."

Hammond looked concerned. "You're sure about that?"

"Not entirely," Amy admitted. "But I'm certain that Sekhmet wouldn't cooperate with Athena or Anubis. That makes her a threat that they'll have to deal with, most likely before any of them can afford to turn their attention back to Earth."

Hammond nodded. "And what's the worst case scenario?"

Amy shook her head. "However bad Sekhmet is, Sir," she assured the General. "I don't think waking her will have any consequence worse than Athena's fleet making its run unchecked."

Hammond nodded. "Do we have any alternative options," he asked the room.

"We tried contacting the informant," Jacob said. "But sabotaging the fleet would require her to give away her identity. She apparently feels that she does not owe either the Tok'ra or the Tau'ri that kind of loyalty."

"Tok'ra strategists have put together a plan which would allow us to assemble a small strike force," Anise added. "It would require combined operations with the SGC to hit a number of Goa'uld military bases simultaneously, but with the element of surprise we could gather as many as fifteen, fully-armed al-kesh. With their cloaking devices we could then launch a surprise attack on Athena's position."

"This sounds like more of a plan," Jack commented.

Anise grimaced. "It is estimated that losses in the initial raids would be close to 30%, mostly Tau'ri, as the Tok'ra are more resistant to injury. The strike force itself would be expected to suffer 100% casualties, in return for destroying the _Parthenon_ and perhaps two other Ha'tak vessels."

"Leaving at least three Ha'taks and the support vessels," Jack realised.

"And quite probably failing to eliminate Athena," Anise added. "She is – as I said – a most cunning foe."

"What about the barques?" Sam asked. "I know you said there's no way to sneak aboard, but are you sure?"

"It might be possible," Jacob said. "I mean, I've learned not to use words like 'impossible', 'impregnable' and 'certain death' too flippantly about SG-1, but it wouldn't be easy. The informant told us that the pilots have to fly a very specific approach path, and give a code phrase which changes regularly, otherwise the cockpit of the barque is blown open and the load towed into the hangar of one of the older Ha'taks. The cargoes themselves are sealed airtight and the hold is depressurised for the duration of the trip. We also don't know yet where the barques are launching from, since Athena's old home base is still clear of Goa'uld activity. However, the informant has timed the crews coming in and out, and the round trip for the pilots appears to be four days. Allowing a day for loading, that means sixty-hours in an airtight container or hard vacuum.

"On arrival, the containers are unloaded with a contingent of guards present, and each is scanned before being dispatched to its proper place in the fleet. You'd need to get through all of this before you could begin to make your way to the _Parthenon_ , and you'd need to take out the command ship to stop the fleet."

"Could we attack the _Parthenon_ with the other ships?" Jack asked.

Jacob shook his head. "She's too powerful, and Athena would cheerfully blast one of her followers to ashes, along with his ship and all of his Jaffa, if the vessel began acting erratically."

"Would it not be possible to approach in a cloaked teltac?" Teal'c asked.

"Possible," Jacob replied. "But probably not smart. One of the reasons that the al-kesh attack would be so limited in its effectiveness is that a cloaked ship could be detected by scanning the motion of the nebular gases. Athena is smart enough to use that."

"Could we use the gases in any way?" Amy asked. "Are they at all flammable?"

"They're very flammable," Sam confirmed. "But without oxygen they simply won't..."

"Flam?" Jack suggested.

"Ignite," Sam finished.

Amy sighed. "Where's a Genesis torpedo when you need one." She shook her head, slowly. "I guess we'll have to go with the bad idea, Sir," she admitted. "Rather than the ones that just don't work."

"Very well," Hammond agreed. "We'll send SG-1 along as escort..."

"I'm not sure that's a good idea, George," Jacob admitted.

"Are you suggesting we send Captain Kawalsky alone?"

"Not at all," Jacob insisted. "But for once I'm not sure SG-1 are the people for the job. There's a danger that Anubis will have learned the location of the planet and send someone to seek the _Wadjet_. If he has, then this entire command doesn't have the strength to oppose the kind of force he could send; stealth and subterfuge will be our key weapons. We would recommend a Tok'ra, posing as a minor Goa'uld, with a single Jaffa escort and a lo'taur. That should give the team enough strength to make a decent break for the Stargate, without being oversized or conspicuous."

Teal'c frowned. "While I am quite prepared to act as Captain Kawalsky's protector on this mission, my appearance is well known to the System Lords."

Jacob nodded. "This has been taken care of. During the Captain's stroll down memory lane, we were able to contact the Tok'ra in order for them to send us a few supplies. We can kit you out with a new suit of armour, and if you do have to lower your helm, this should help to deflect suspicion." He took out a small gold lozenge, and laid it on the table. "This is a hollow cap that will fit snugly over your existing tattoo."

Teal'c examined the cap with a critical eye. It bore the symbol of a stylised falcon's head. "Will it not seem suspicious to find a First Prime escorting a minor Goa'uld and her handmaiden?" He asked.

"Not if he is the First Prime of Mentu," Anise assured him.

"Or rather _a_ First Prime," Jacob added. "Mentu had a penchant for gold tattoos, with as many as seven First Primes at any one time."

"Seems excessive," Jack commented.

"Well, Mentu did have an unusually large number of Jaffa," Jacob admitted. "Although little in the way of ships. Unfortunately for him, many of them rebelled, greatly weakening his position, and he was overthrown by Bastet. Three of his First Primes rebelled, one was killed; the other three now serve his killer in a somewhat less prestigious capacity."

"They just switched sides?" Jack asked. "I don't get that. I thought Jaffa were loyal until death?"

"They are," Teal'c assured him. "However, while they will give their lives for their master, once that master is slain, most will see it as their duty to serve the new and greater god who overthrew him. That is how the Goa'uld absorb the armies of their defeated foes."

Amy said. "What's our cover story?" Amy asked. "Why is this intrepid band supposed to be searching an isolated world if not to find a long-dormant warlord?"

"In the event that you are located and questioned," Anise replied. "You will claim to be seeking a downed teltac, belonging to your mistress, Bastet. If pressed, you will explain that one of her favourites was on board when the ship was lost in this region of space, and if that does not satisfy you should admit that this 'favourite' was an agent who had reported locating what he believed to be a Tollan splinter colony."

"And who is our immediate master in this scenario?" Amy asked. "General Carter?"

Jacob shook his head. "My appearance is probably better known by now than Teal'c's. Anubis has been distributing images of all known Tok'ra for months, including both myself and Anise. We suspect that he got our descriptions from Tanith."

Teal'c balled his fists against his sides at the mention of that hated name.

"Talitha on the other hand has been undercover since before Tanith came to us," Jacob continued. "Knowing that he planned always to betray us, we never let slip the identities of deep cover operatives, and even if he had learned of her, it would be in the shape of her former host, who is now dead."

"Osiris knows who I am," Talitha admitted, speaking for the first time in two days. "But only as a Jaffa handmaiden. I doubt she ever looked at me long enough to give a good description. Besides which," she added. "Dressed as a Goa'uld I shall look quite different from the way that I look now."

Jack nodded his understanding. "Clothes maketh the man. Or in this case, woman. Tok'ra. Goa'uld. Whatever."

"Hopefully, the disguises will be superfluous," Talitha continued. "But we would be foolish not to take every precaution possible."

"As a lo'taur, would I be expected to go armed?" Amy asked.

"Not as such," Jacob replied. "But you might carry your mistress' weapons. We can provide you and Teal'c with Goa'uld weapons decorated in the style of Bastet's Kaffir Guard."

"I'd be happier with a P90," Amy admitted. "But I understand why it's not really an option."

"I'll say it again," Hammond told her. "I won't order anyone to go on this mission."

"I'm scared, General," Amy replied. "But I understand the stakes. I'm in."

"As am I," Teal'c agreed.

"Then you have a go," Hammond said. "Get a good night's rest. You'll depart at oh-nine-hundred tomorrow."

*

_P9Z-182  
Dakhleh_

The Stargate sent forth its burst of foam as it activated, then disgorged three travellers from the event horizon. The chamber into which they emerged was filled with a thunderous roar and a fine, cool mist, for the Gate was situated in a natural cavern, concealed behind the curtain of a great waterfall.

The first was a Jaffa, armoured in black and silver and holding a staff weapon at the ready. His head was enclosed in a helmet the colour of jet, fashioned into the head of a snarling cat, sleeker and more gracile than the lion-helm of Sekhmet. He moved with a slow, deliberate tread and, despite his wariness, gave an impression of indestructible, unstoppable strength. The Jaffa was closely followed by a Goa'uld, clad in a roughly practical outfit of silver-tooled black leather and crimson silk, her neck, arms and ankles adorned with silver jewellery. A heavy, black cloak hung from her shoulders, her head was uncovered and her long black hair hung loosely in a light wave. Every inch of her radiated the power and arrogance of her race.

The last traveller wore a simple black tunic and pants, under an undecorated cloak, traced through with silver thread so that they glittered in the light from the event horizon. She too carried a silvery-surfaced staff weapon, but it was not held ready, and her head was bowed humbly. A pack on her back confirmed her status as servant and baggage carrier.

"We are alone," the Jaffa confirmed as the Gate closed behind them, shouting to be heard over the sound of falling water.

Almost immediately, all three relaxed, the servant becoming less humble while her mistress lost the edge from her arrogance. Both women drew their cloaks around themselves, feeling a biting chill in the air.

"I've got to hand it to Bastet," Amy admitted. "She may be an evil bitch, but her fashion sense is better than most."

Talitha laughed, without humour. "This is travel clothing," she said. "Court attire for Bastet's servants is a little less...comfortable."

Teal'c lowered his Kaffir helmet. "I am always surprised how confining I find a Jaffa helmet after so long without," he admitted. "Once I would have thought nothing of wearing one for hours, or even days on end."

"Well, hopefully you won't have to put up with it again," Amy said. "If there was anyone here then they probably would have left someone to guard the Gate."

"I sense no Jaffa nearby," Teal'c confirmed. "Nor did the devices in my helmet detect the power sources of any automated weapon systems."

"Are there any other exits?" Amy asked. "No," she said, answering herself. "And there is a ledge opposite, about three hundred metres away..."

"Captain Kawalsky?" Teal'c asked, clearly concerned.

"I remember this place," she told him. "And if I'm right, then there's a perfect sniper's nest overlooking the point where we have to emerge from behind the waterfall. If I were trying to fortify a presence here with limited troops, I'd post my guards there instead of here. One man could take out anyone trying to emerge; two could hold off an army."

Teal'c frowned, and touched the stud on his collar, restoring his Kaffir helm. As the metal slid across his face, he moved cautiously towards the path which led out from behind the waterfall, the grace in his huge frame seemingly more than human. Just for a moment, Amy understood how a primitive culture could see the Goa'uld as gods; their servants as immortal, avenging spirits.

Teal'c crouched at the brink of the cascade, and the eyes of his helm glowed green. Amy was aware that Jaffa battle helmets provided the wearer with a high-definition, holographic view of the world seen through the helm's own eyes, and that they had limited night-vision, zoom and infra-red capabilities. These enhancements were somewhat offset by the fact that the helm could never match the detail vision of the human eye, but they were nonetheless a useful adaptation.

"I see the ledge," the Jaffa confirmed. "And there is a guard posted there."

Amy sighed. "Man, I hate being right all the time," she grumbled.

"There is only one Jaffa," Teal'c continued. "Armed with a staff weapon, and no others in sight. From below, a staff blast will be all but invisible," he added, looking up. There was almost total cloud cover, but the day was still bright, the light diffusing across the entire sky.

" _If_ the main body of the force is below," Talitha cautioned.

"I...don't think there's anywhere else to go," Amy said. "There are paths into the mountains, but they would be out of sight anyway. I say we chance it."

"If you miss, we will be dead," Talitha said.

Teal'c's response was to lift his staff weapon to a more stable firing position, holding it rock steady. "I believe that I can make the shot," he assured them, speaking mostly to Amy.

Amy weighed up the options, deeply moved by the Jaffa's deference to her judgement. The staff weapon was less accurate than a rifle, but she had still seen skilled marksmen hit moving targets at great distances, and she was confident in Teal'c's ability. The shot might give them away, but on the other hand they would certainly be seen if the guard were not neutralised. "Take the shot," she whispered.

The staff weapon snapped open and spoke once, casting a flare onto the edge of the waterfall as it passed, sending a ripple of rainbow light dancing through the mist. After a long moment, Teal'c took his hand from the firing lever, and the muzzle closed.

"Let's move," Amy said.

 

Where it emerged from behind the cascade, the black rock of the path was slick and treacherous, but it soon dried enough for the three travellers to feel secure. The path itself was narrow, but not so narrow that by pressing themselves to the cliff at their left they could not avoid being seen from below. From the waterfall it ran around in a deep horseshoe to the watch post, before winding away into the mountains. Although she could not see it yet, Amy knew that around the corner from the watch post, a small cavern led to a hand-cut stairway. This in turn wound in a tight spiral to the floor of the great, v-shaped valley.

The landscape was like nothing on Earth. Behind them now, the waterfall fell from the cliff-top a thousand feet above them, down the steep cataract to the plunge pool almost two thousand feet below, in an all-but unbroken flow. The valley walls were steep – almost vertical in places – and studded with jagged protuberances, with little more than lichens growing on the hard, dark rock. Ahead of them rose the peaks of mountains, just as steep and unforgiving, and towering thousands of feet into the air.

"A harsh world," Teal'c commented. "Yet beautiful in its way."

"Yes," Amy agreed. "Hence its attraction for Thoth. "All of the more advanced plant and animal life dwells further downstream. Those mountains you see are just the foothills; the rivers come down from the real peaks behind us, flowing through the foothills and away to the plains. Anyone emerging from the Stargate would see nothing but stone, and there is little of mineral worth to the Goa'uld."

"Which means that few are likely to spend enough time here to find the tomb where Sekhmet is held," Teal'c surmised.

"Someone is here though," Talitha reminded them.

"Which means that they probably already know what they are looking for," Amy agreed. She lowered herself to her belly, and crawled to the edge of the path. "Teal'c," she called, softly. "Come and see."

The Jaffa and the Tok'ra joined Amy at the ledge, and looked down into the cataract. By the side of the plunge pool, a great golden pavilion had been erected, with smaller, plainer tents around it, and two banners flapping in the breeze before the entrance. The figures moving among the tents looked like insects from this height, with their grey, armoured carapaces, but it was plain enough to see that they were dressed in the armour of Jaffa warriors. A long white screen had been erected along the edge of the plunge pool, hiding it from the rest of the camp. Two helmed warriors stood before the screen, alongside a pair of figures in the white and gold robes of servants. In the pool itself, a pale figure moved slowly under the surface; a person, swimming.

"That water must be almost freezing," Amy noted.

"That would not be a problem for a Goa'uld host," Teal'c replied.

"Any idea who it is?" Amy asked.

"My helmet's visual enhancers are insufficient," Teal'c replied. "I can make out neither the markings on the banners, nor the design of the helmets."

Amy reached back into a side pocket of her pack and brought out a pair of binoculars. Although something of a giveaway, Amy had deemed them too useful to leave behind, and there was no Goa'uld equivalent. She was as often surprised by the technologies that the Goa'uld did not have as by the ones that they did have: No Goa'uld personal field comms, time-pieces or magnifying optics had ever been seen, and so Amy carried a tac radio, a watch, a miniature periscope and a few other bits and pieces, as well as her bins.

"I can't make out the swimmer," she said. "The banners...The one on the left looks like a bird of some sort. Not Egyptian iconography. Stylised. Long, heavy beak. Maybe a raven. The one on the right is just a bifurcated delta, like a stylised flying bird."

"That sounds like the emblems of Cronus," Talitha said.

"Cronus is dead," Teal'c insisted, sharply. "Nevertheless, you are correct," he admitted. He retracted the Kaffir helm, and Amy passed him the binoculars. The Jaffa surveyed the scene with great care.

"What do you think?" Amy asked.

"Those are Corvus Guards," Teal'c confirmed. "The elite warriors of Cronus' army."

"Why would they be gathered under the banner of a dead god?" Amy wondered. "Wouldn't they be snatched up by another Goa'uld?"

"Unless one of Cronus' underlords has taken his throne," Talitha said.

"Regardless, the Corvus Guard are not to be lightly dismissed," Teal'c warned. "We would do best to avoid them if possible."

"Shouldn't be a problem," Amy replied. "We need to follow the path, not go down into the valley. Be careful after we pass the watch post; there's a cave about a hundred yards on where they may have another guard."

 

Amy checked the corner through her periscope, while Teal'c examined the body of the Jaffa guard. The young warrior bore the horned and bifurcated delta tattoo of Cronus, but was not one of the Corvus Guard. He wore an adapted Jaffa skullcap, with an articulated arm that had held a visual enhancer over his right eye before Teal'c's staff blast had shattered device and eye alike.

"A sharpshooter," Teal'c noted.

"I didn't know the Goa'uld used snipers," Amy noted.

"In general they do not," Talitha confirmed. "Snipers are used to attack enemy leaders, and the Goa'uld do not like their Jaffa to feel that they are able to strike down a god."

Amy nodded. "If there's one though, there might be others," she said. "We should watch for possible nests." Teal'c nodded his agreement. "I don't see anything around the corner," Amy continued. "But we still need to be careful. The cave is difficult to see before you reach it."

The trio carefully negotiated the corner, where the path narrowed to a few feet at the same time as it turned through almost one-hundred-and-twenty degrees. Past the bend the path widened again, but for a few moments they were desperately hugging the rock face as the wind whipped against them.

A short distance further on, Amy held up a hand for the others to halt, and waved Teal'c ahead of her. While she was confident of her ability to get the drop on any waiting Jaffa, there was no telling how many might have been posted. If there were too many to fight, they would have to bluff, and their bluff would be called if the alleged handmaiden were taking point. As he passed, he handed her his staff weapon – too cumbersome for the job in hand – taking a zat'nik'tel in exchange, and drawing a second such weapon from his hip. Apparently Kaffir Guards did not wear their sidearms on their wrists.

Teal'c sidled silently up to the cave mouth, then stepped out and round, snapping both zats open as he levelled them at the opening. "Clear," he confirmed, closing the weapons. Amy let out the breath she had been holding, and swapped weapons and places with the Jaffa once again.

"Right then," Amy said. "We keep heading along this pass for now; hopefully I'll remember the way as we go along."

"We should be wary of patrols," Teal'c cautioned.

Amy nodded. "You take point. I'll sing out if I spot a turning."

*

Amy checked her watch. They had been on the planet Dakhleh for almost five hours, and she was increasingly troubled by Thoth's half-buried memories. The path was clear to her now, and she knew every turning long before they reached it. She knew where they were going, and what they would find there, and she fervently wished that she did not.

The three of them had finally come down from the high path and were resting in the relative openness of a valley floor. Amy estimated that they were probably still about a thousand feet higher than the Goa'uld encampment, and the thinness of the air was beginning to get to her. In some fashion, the symbiotes in Teal'c and Talitha were supplying additional oxygen to keep them operating at peak efficiency, but Amy was breathing hard and becoming light-headed. She was unsteady on her feet, and felt profoundly glad that they were no longer moving along a narrow ledge. As they sat, she gulped at the cold air, trying to recover herself.

"Are you unwell, Captain Kawalsky?" Teal'c asked.

"I'll be alright," she assured him, breathlessly. "It's just the altitude. I should have brought a respirator or something."

"We should not wait too long," Talitha cautioned. "Our bluff will be useless if I seem to be making allowances for you, Captain Kawalsky."

Amy nodded. "I know," she said. "I just need a minute."

"Someone is coming!" Teal'c cautioned, levelling his staff at a narrow gully that fed down into the valley. He was clearly torn. If he started firing there would be no chance of averting an incident, but on the other hand it went against his training and instincts to allow an enemy to leave a natural bottleneck like the gully and take up a stronger position.

Amy got to her feet. "Challenge the leader as he emerges," she suggested.

"The leader will not be in front," Teal'c told her. "He will be proceeded by the longest-serving member of his squad, with the newest recruit on point. To negotiate we will have to allow at least three Jaffa to leave the gully."

Amy fingered a zat'nik'tel in her belt. "We don't know how many they are," she said. "We have to try the bluff."

"I am in agreement," Teal'c said. "Although I am not happy with the necessity."

Amy grinned, crookedly. "Talitha; you're up."

The Tok'ra stepped up beside Teal'c as the three travellers once more shifted into the pose of their assigned roles. Amy rounded her shoulders and tried to look humble, while keeping a firm grip on her staff weapon in case it were needed.

The Jaffa who emerged form the gully was a Corvus Guard, head encased in a helmet shaped like a raven's head. The raven's eyes glittered dangerously, black orbs with a spark of red at the centre. The Jaffa's appearance was calculated to be intimidating, but was belied by a slightly awkward stride, as though the warrior was as yet unaccustomed to the armour. As Teal'c had said; a new recruit.

"Hold!" Teal'c commanded, speaking in the Jaffa dialect of the Goa'uld tongue, voice distorted and amplified by the cat-like Kaffir helm. "Identify yourself, or die!"

The Jaffa froze in the act of levelling a staff weapon, clearly thinking better of any attempt to throw down on Teal'c. "I am but a humble warrior, Mistress," the Jaffa said, and Amy was startled to hear a woman's voice coming from behind the mask. With only a handful of exceptions recorded in all of the SGC's travels, Jaffa warriors were always men, although the armour hid most of the obvious tell-tales. "Seln'auc is my name."

"If you are but a soldier, then let your commander come forward," Talitha instructed. Her voice was a low purr, satin laced with steel, and carrying an arrogance so authentic that it set Amy's teeth on edge.

"Yes, Mistress," the Jaffa replied. She turned back to the gully, and conferred softly with the warrior following her. After a moment, the second Jaffa emerged, moving with easy grace despite his heavy armour and bulky helm. A third followed, again displaying every sign of experience, but he was marked out from the other veteran by the sheen of lapis lazuli around his eyes, and the dusting of gold that decorated his breastplate and the surface of his helm.

Amy's breath caught in her throat; this was a First Prime.

"You lead these," Talitha said, not making it a question. "To whom do you answer?"

"I am Broa'c," the man replied, insolently. It was the ultimate put-down for a Jaffa to introduce himself to a Goa'uld, thus implying that his Master was sufficiently above Talitha that his servants were her equals. "First Prime of Rhea."

Amy felt a sick, squirming sensation in her gut as the Jaffa moved closer, the feeling that warned her of the proximity of a Goa'uld symbiote. Of course, she had been feeling that nausea all day, but the addition of a third symbiote still registered as an increased tightness. There was also an element of concern to the sensation. A First Prime – especially one as self-important as this – was far less likely than a more humble squad leader to accept their bluff.

The First Prime raised a hand to his collar, and his Corvus helmet retracted into his collar. He was big, Amy realised; almost as big as Teal'c. He was also handsome, with strong features and dark skin and hair. The gold tattoo on his forehead bore the same heavily stylised raven emblem that flew on the banners in the encampment. "And who are you?" Broa'c asked, adding as an afterthought: "Mistress."

" _You_ do not question _us_ ," Talitha hissed, dangerously. "We are a goddess."

"You are trespassing in my Mistress' domain," Broa'c replied. "Goddess or no, I will have your answer."

"This world is unclaimed," Talitha said. "Your Mistress has no more right here than I."

At a signal from Broa'c, Seln'auc and her veteran companion levelled their staff weapons at Teal'c, and three more Jaffa emerged from the gully. "It does not seem so to me," Broa'c assured Talitha. "As my Mistress has strength to hold her claim, and you do not. Now," he added, lowering his own staff directly at Talitha. "Give me your name, Goddess, and bid your servant lower his weapon and reveal his face."

"I am Tabua of Per-Bast," Talitha said, proudly. "I have come seeking a teltac lost by my Mistress, Bastet. Obstruct us, and her vengeance shall be cruel; Cronos is gone, and your Mistress can not match the might of Bastet."

Broa'c sneered. "Lower your weapon and you helm," he told Teal'c. "Or your Mistress shall die."

"Then you shall die with her," Teal'c warned.

Amy saw Seln'auc tighten her grip on the staff, nervously; this was probably her first stand-off. Amy herself had been in several, but few where she played such a pivotal role. She would need to gauge her time to act precisely: Too soon and she might precipitate an avoidable and probably fatal fire-fight; too late and the veteran would nail Teal'c cold.

"We shall go about our business," Talitha suggested. "While you go about yours. Oppose us, and die."

Broa'c seemed to be weighing his options. "I do not think so," he said at last.

Amy sensed the shift in the balance, like the change in the air before a storm broke, and brought her staff weapon quickly and efficiently into play. She swung the tip down and the butt up, at the same time raising her right arm so that she ended up holding the weapon two-handed, at shoulder height. Her weapon snapped open a fraction of a second before the veteran's, and she fired.

Amy's staff blast hissed through the air in front of Talitha and struck the veteran in the shoulder, throwing him down. Moments later, Teal'c and Broa'c fired, and almost simultaneously, Talitha discharged her hand device at the First Prime of Rhea. Broa'c was flung down by the shockwave, as were the Jaffa behind him, and his staff blast was knocked aside. Unfortunately he was also hurled flat, allowing Teal'c's shot to pass straight over him. Finally, Seln'auc fired, and struck Teal'c in the hip.

The Jaffa woman was too close to shoot, so Amy closed the staff and swung it as a club, knocking the weapon from Seln'auc's hands and following up with a fierce jab to the face with the mace-end. "Move!" She shouted, already falling back towards another gully, which would take them on their way.

Amy moved to support Teal'c, but he waved her away. "Go!" He commanded, in a pained voice. "I shall cover our retreat." So saying he at once raised his staff weapon to fire, forcing Amy to move out of his way.

Amy and Talitha scrambled to the gully and turned to wait for Teal'c. He shot an emerging Jaffa, but one of those floored by the Tok'ra's hand device recovered enough to shoot him with a zat'nik'tel. Amy cried out as blue lightning arced around the Jaffa. As Teal'c fell, the eyes of the cat helm turned towards them.

"Go!" He cried again, forcing the words past the pain.

"Move!" Talitha shrieked, and Amy did so, scrambling into the gully as fast as she could go, with the Tok'ra dogging at her heels. "Gun," Talitha added, and without looking Amy passed back a zat.

They fled deeper into the mountains, the gully almost doubling back on their previous course, as the sound of pursuit filled Amy's ears. Behind her, Talitha cried out, and Amy turned in time to see the Tok'ra twisting around, firing the zat wildly behind her as blood splattered from a wound in her left shoulder. She fell hard, cracking the back of her head on the stone.

Amy loosed a volley of staff blasts at the pursuing Jaffa, wishing fervently for a P90 with which to lay down a proper suppressing fire. "Can you move?" She asked Talitha, then cried out as a staff blast creased her left thigh.

"Yes," the Tok'ra replied, unsteadily, and without the symbiote resonance.

"Then move!" Amy grunted, gritting her teeth in pain and firing several more shots to cover them.

Talitha scrambled to her feet and away up the gully, with Amy following more slowly, still firing. After about two hundred yards the gully widened and gave way to a second gully, running perpendicular to the first. At the t-junction was a natural stone pillar, and Amy desperately unleashed a half-dozen staff blasts into the base. With a great, grinding rumble, the basalt column fell across the mouth of the first gully.

"That should hold them a while," Amy said to herself, breathing a sigh of relief to have survived the fight, but feeling a knot of guilt to have abandoned Teal'c. She looked about her. "Talitha!" She called. "Where are you?" When there was no reply, Amy took a guess and headed a short way down the gully. She found Talitha huddled against a boulder, shivering. "Come on," Amy said. "We have to keep moving."

The Tok'ra looked up at Amy with terrified eyes.

"Talitha?" Amy asked.

"Sh-she's gone," the girl whispered. "Hurt bad. She can't talk to you; or to me."

"So...who are you?" Amy asked, realising that she had not yet been introduced to Talitha's host.

"Regan," the girl replied.

"Okay, Regan; we still have to go."

"I'm scared," Regan protested.

"You'll be dead if we don't hurry up," Amy snapped. Regan began to cry. "Oh...no; stop that," Amy said. "Please." She reached down, and took the girl by the hand. "I...I'll look out for you until Talitha gets better," she promised. "But we have to go, _now_!"

Regan nodded. Amy drew the girl to her feet, and they ran.

*

After he fell, Teal'c was rolled over, and Broa'c loomed above him. Before Teal'c was able to fully recover the use of his limbs, the First Prime had opened his Kaffir helm, and pressed something to his neck that stung briefly, and sent waves of paralysing languor rushing through him. He tried to move, but his body refused to respond in any way.

"Sleep paralysis," Seln'auc told him, as Broa'c moved away. The warrior woman was looking down at Teal'c as though she knew him, and was trying to remember from where. Her nose was swollen, with a small scab of dried blood beneath it. "If you struggle you'll wear yourself out, and you need your strength." She knelt beside him and drew a short, curved, razor sharp knife. With careful movements, she cut the armour away from his injured hip, and spread a salve across the staff burn. The salve was a Jaffa preparation, usually mixed and administered by priests, which combined antiseptic and analgesic properties.

Teal'c attempted to speak, but found himself to do much more than mutter.

"Shh," Seln'auc counselled, laying her fingers on his lips. "The paralysis affects your speech as well, and...well, to be honest, you'll drool if you try and talk too much."

"Seln'auc," Broa'c hove into Teal'c's field of vision. "Is he well enough to move? His companions have evaded us for the time being, and we do not know if there are more of them. I want to return him to the camp for questioning and I would prefer not to have to send him for resurrection before he can speak to us."

"He will survive the journey," Seln'auc replied. "And will even be capable of walking. He seems almost as strong as you, First Prime," she added.

Broa'c frowned, and reached out to wipe a trickle of fresh blood from under Seln'auc's nose. "And yourself?"

"I will heal," the woman replied, averting her gaze, embarrassed.

 

Broa'c moved away from the captive's sightline, and gestured for Seln'auc to follow. "What is wrong?" He asked her.

"I allowed the woman to take me," Seln'auc replied. "She was not Jaffa, yet she defeated me. A mere servant..."

"There is no shame," Broa'c assured her. "That was no mere servant. She had the skill and guile of a warrior, whatever her garb. She might have taken me as easily."

"Never," Seln'auc insisted, loyally.

"You did not see her as a threat," Broa'c said. "Neither did I. Neither did Jhon'a, and it cost him his life. We shall not be fooled by her again," he added, half-promise, half-warning.

"No, First Prime."

Broa'c laid a hand on Seln'auc's shoulder for a moment, before turning back to his other troops, detailing two of them to carry Jhon'a's body. "Laur'tac," he said. "Take command of Jhon'a's section, clear the rockfall and continue the pursuit. If you find no sign of them beyond the stone return to camp and report."

"Yes, First Prime," Laur'tac replied, beckoning his new command to follow him.

"Seln'auc; prepare our prisoner."

Seln'auc rolled the captive onto his stomach, and bond his hands behind him. Then two of the Jaffa manhandled him to his feet. Broa'c approached and held up a small device. "This controls the implant in your neck," he explained. "If I press the switch, you will be able to move; if I release it, you will be paralysed again. If you follow and do not attempt to escape, then you will be permitted to enter our camp with some dignity. Do you understand?" He depressed the button.

"I understand," the prisoner replied.

"Good," Broa'c said. He turned to his troops. "We move."

*

"Come on!" Amy shouted. "We can't stop yet."

"But my shoulder hurts," Regan whined, her voice grating on Amy's nerves. "And my head feels too big, and...it's too quiet."

"Oh, for God's sake," Amy snarled. "Pull yourself together, girl, or I'll leave you for the Corvus Guards to find."

"No!" Regan cried, tears welling in her eyes. "Please, don't..."

Amy sighed. "I'm not going to leave you," she assured the girl, gently but still firmly. "But we have to move, or they'll catch us both."

Regan sniffled. "Okay," she agreed, reaching out for Amy's hand. Grudgingly, Amy took the proffered appendage and, moving as fast as possible with a sullen child dragging behind her and a dirty great gash in her leg, hurried along the path.

 

"Okay; rest here for a while," Amy said, releasing Regan's hand and letting her slump wearily onto a stone. The place that Amy had chosen was as defensible as any they had passed. It was a relatively enclosed hollow, and the surrounding boulders would be impossible for the Jaffa to climb and so take her by surprise. She could also watch the path behind them while remaining largely concealed herself, and the retreat route behind the hollow would be difficult for the Jaffa to spot.

"Thank you," the girl gasped.

"I'm guessing you haven't been with the Tok'ra long," Amy said, pulling aside the torn shoulder of Regan's dress to examine her wound. Although it had looked bad, the long, scorched furrow was actually much shallower than the one cutting through the muscle of Amy's leg. The blast had left the wound cauterised, so Amy merely covered it with a strip of cloth. The girl's worst injury must be the head wound that had incapacitated Talitha, but Amy was not comfortable performing any kind of examination there. If the symbiote had suffered too great an injury, interfering might actually kill her.

Regan shook her head.

"I'm also guessing you weren't exactly a veteran guerrilla warrior when you joined up?"

Again, Regan shook her head. "No," she added, beginning to find her breath.

Amy waited while Regan recovered, before asking: "So what were you?"

"A princess," Regan replied.

"Why am I not surprised," Amy muttered to herself, moving away from the child to watch the approach. "You said earlier it was too quiet; what did you mean?"

"I can't hear her. Talitha," Regan explained. "She was hurt when I fell. She said she needed to concentrate on healing herself, and me, and she'd have no time for anything else."

Amy nodded, slowly. "How did you two end up together?" She asked, more to focus the girl on something other than her fear than from any real interest.

"My father, Berris, was the King of Bubastis," Regan replied. "One of Bastet's domains. Talitha encouraged him to revolt against the rule of the Goa'uld, and when an unknown enemy began attacking the System Lords, forcing Bastet to draw off most of her forces, his army expelled her remaining Jaffa, and fortified the Stargate against her. Bastet was angry, and returned with an army, in ships."

"Yeah," Amy sighed. "They'll do that."

"Talitha had prepared for this," Regan went on. "She used a modified UV shield to defend the populated area of Bubastis from Bastet's bombardment, and mined her pyramids, so that when she tried to land, her ships were crippled or destroyed. Finally Bastet landed the remaining Jaffa in barques, and sent death gliders and bombers against us. Again we were prepared, and fought off the attack. Bastet was forced to return to her battered flagship and flee, abandoning Bubastis as too costly to re-conquer; at least for now."

"Bastet must have been livid," Amy realised.

Regan nodded. "She sent an assassin," the girl said. "To teach my father a lesson. My brother and I were poisoned. He was a sickly child, and died quickly; I was stronger and held out for several days, but it was clear that I would never recover. I lived only because another woman died; Zenobia of Per-Bast."

"Talitha's host," Amy surmised.

"Yes. Both of them had been particular foes of Bastet for many years before they came to be my father's counsellor. They placed themselves in danger to lead the fight to defend our world, and I have heard it said that Bastet risked her very life to strike down her enemies with her own hand. Zenobia was too badly hurt to heal...You don't think I'm too badly hurt to heal, do you? Is that why Talitha won't talk to me."

"No," Amy told her, definitely. "She is healing you; I've seen Goa'uld recover from much worse. Without the aid of the sarcophagus," she added. "So you and Zenobia were both dying?" She prompted.

"Yes," Regan replied. "My father felt that he and his people owed Talitha a great debt, and she felt that she owed my father, as it was her advice that led him to the course which brought the punishment of my poisoning. So, to save my life and hers, Talitha entered my body."

"And you consented?"

"I was delirious," Regan said. "My father chose this path for me."

"What?" Amy was taken aback.

"It was his right; as it would have been his right to choose my husband when I had grown older."

"And Talitha accepted this?"

"She let me know, when I was well, that she would leave me if I wished it, but my father had commanded me," Regan repeated.

Amy fought hard to suppress her anger. "So she took and kept you as a host without your proper consent?" She asked.

Something must have shown in Amy's face. "You are angry with me," Regan realised. "You think I am weak for bowing to my father," she accused, hotly.

"No..." Amy insisted, although in truth she did feel almost as mad at Regan as at Talitha.

"She feels the same, I think," Regan said.

"She? Talitha?"

Regan nodded. "I am not what she would have wished in a host," she said. "I have no skills that would add to hers, and she looks down on the customs of my people."

"What customs?"

"I was raised to be a dutiful daughter," Regan said. "And in time to be a good wife to the man my father chose for me. Talitha and Zenobia both hailed from Per-Bast, where a woman can own land and choose her husband. To appear as I do now among my people would be to invite death, but Talitha refuses to allow me to cover myself modestly."

Amy sighed. "I trained as an anthropologist," she told Regan. "And so I always try to see a people's customs without bias or prejudice. I think the ways of your people suck," she added. "But I don't think it makes you weak. I think being raised as a spoiled princess has made you weak." Regan looked shocked, and Amy reached down and gave her shoulder a supportive squeeze. "But thankfully, that's something that can be remedied."

*

Broa'c and two of his Corvus Guards led Teal'c into the golden pavilion. Inside, the tent was furnished in palatial splendour, and divided into chambers by hanging cloths. Servants moved silently about, busying themselves with the needs of their Mistress, however trivial. At their entrance, a young woman of quite considerable beauty rose languidly from a pile of silk cushions. She was dressed in a white dress, adorned with gold, lapis lazuli and blue faience; a servant, but of considerable standing. Teal'c did not think that she was Jaffa.

"Kel'sha, Broa'c," the woman said, in honeyed tones, moving to stand very close to the First Prime. At his shoulder, Teal'c felt more than saw Seln'auc tense angrily.

"Kel'sha, Helena," Broa'c replied. "Will our Queen receive her humble servants?"

"I shall inform the Queen of your presence," Helena promised. "Meantime, enter the antechamber, and relieve yourselves of your burden."

The woman led the Jaffa through a slit in one of the hangings, to a larger space, set with couches, the canopy supported by two strong pillars. Seln'auc and her fellow jailor led Teal'c to the pillars, stood him on a stool, unbound his hands, then tied him between the two poles. He tested their strength, and confirmed his suspicion that they must be driven many feet into the rock beneath the carpeted floor.

While his cohorts were securing the captive, Helena produced a goblet of wine for Broa'c, but he declined the offer, and instead asked that water be brought for himself and his Jaffa. Smiling daggers, Helena complied, and to their captive's surprise, the First Prime had Seln'auc give water to Teal'c as well.

At some point, Helena excused herself, and she returned about twenty minutes later. "All rise for Rhea the Fair, Queen of Queens, Giver of Life," she commanded, although the Jaffa were all still standing. At Teal'c's sides, Seln'auc and her fellow went to their knees, heads bowed, and Broa'c and Helena did the same as Rhea entered.

On sight of the Queen, Teal'c's heart fluttered; not because her beauty so utterly eclipsed Helena's as to make her seem plain, but because he knew that this woman was the last sight that his father had ever gazed upon. Her golden hair was gathered up in a mound on top of her head, leaving only two long curls to hang beneath her jewelled tiara, framing her exquisite face. She was clad in a robe of gold-threaded, dark blue silk, with deep sleeves and a stooping neckline. No mask concealed her features, but she wore a ribbon device of singularly beautiful workmanship on her left hand, and a delicately clawed gauntlet on her right.

Behind the Queen came a great bull of a Jaffa, not a warrior, but a soft-skinned eunuch, bearing in his thick, fleshy arms an ornate throne that he set at Rhea's heels, so that she needed only to ease herself back into it. This one task done, the mountainous throne-bearer backed from the chamber. The Queen settled on her great seat, and cast her imperious gaze upon her subjects, ignoring Teal'c completely.

"Broa'c; First Prime," Rhea said. "Tell us what gift you bring to honour your Queen?"

"An interloper, My Queen," Broa'c replied, reverently, without looking up.

Rhea finally turned her eyes on Teal'c, and his heart rose into his throat. That gaze, as cold as a serpent's, yet full of intelligence and hunger, bored into him. "And what are you?" She asked, rhetorically.

"I am Kley'ac," Teal'c said. "Servant of Tabua."

Broa'c rose smoothly to his feet, and struck Teal'c hard across the face. "You shall not speak without permission," he ordered. Teal'c's head swung with the force of the blow, but he merely glowered sullenly at his attacker.

"A slave of Bastet," Rhea sighed. "How tedious. And what brings you and your mistress to my world?"

"This is not your world," Teal'c told her.

Broa'c hauled back and struck Teal'c again. Once more his head snapped aside, and he heard a murmur of surprise from his captors. Broa'c stepped back in confusion. As his head cleared, Teal'c saw a glitter of gold at Rhea's feet.

"How intriguing," Rhea commented. She waved a hand idly, at which signal Helena picked up the tattoo cap and held it up for her mistress to see. "What a strange and ingenious thing," Rhea said. "Let us see your true colours, Jaffa."

Broa'c seized Teal'c roughly by the head, and turned him to face the Queen. She gazed down on him with imperious eyes.

"The First Prime of Apophis," Helena whispered.

Rhea gave a soft, throaty chuckle. "Teal'c," she said. "Killer of Cronus."

Teal'c spat in Rhea's direction, and Broa'c drove his fist against Teal'c's jaw. The blow felt more like a sledgehammer than a punch.

"Broa'c, kree!" Rhea snapped. She stood, and swayed sinuously towards her prisoner, motioning her First Prime back with a casual gesture. "Our guest is simply the victim of a false doctrine."

"It is not my doctrine that is false," Teal'c responded, thickly, feeling blood well from his swelling mouth. "But your godhood."

Making no comment, Rhea passed her clawed right hand across Teal'c's abdomen, and he shivered. "Interesting," the Queen said. "I would have thought that Apophis' first prime would bear the spawn of his whore, Amaunet; yet the prim'ta within you is ours. We are the source of your life," she added, stepping close to him.

Teal'c tensed, ready to drive his head into Rhea's face in a gesture of defiance – and an attempt to provoke her to kill him, so that he could not be forced to betray his friends – but with serpentine swiftness, the Queen thrust her hand into his pouch, and ran her metal claws along the body of the larva that squirmed within. The Jaffa felt waves of pleasure echo through him, as the prim'ta responded with near-ecstasy to its mother's touch.

"Mistress..." Broa'c began, concerned.

"Fear not, my protector," Rhea told him. "No son of Ro'nac shall harm me."

Teal'c's head swam, and he felt himself stagger, suddenly and unaccountably finding himself in a dark throne room. He looked up and saw Rhea standing before him, her face an emotionless mask. A voice drew his attention, and he swung to look on the face of Cronus, frowning in anger. He tried to steel himself as the dead, false god stepped towards him, but the terror that radiated from the prim'ta when Cronus thrust his hand into his abdomen was as irresistible as the pleasure brought by Rhea's caress, and he shook with fear. As the hand tightened on the eel-like beast, Teal'c felt his limbs weaken, then spasm in pain. The lining of his pouch began to burn as the poison blood ran, then it entered his own circulation, and he realised that he had never known what pain was. It was as though every inch of his body had been set aflame from within, and for the first time since the implanting of his first symbiote, he screamed.

Teal'c cried out, his body arching in agony, then hanging loose in his chains. His feet slipped from the stool, and he snapped back to himself. He shook his head to clear it, remembering that what he had witnessed was his father's death, and not his own. While Cronos had attempted to kill him the same way, he had not had time to finish the execution before his own demise. He remembered also that he had screamed on many occasions since the priests had cut open his belly. His father had not, but then his father had never been tortured.

"How does it feel, Teal'c?" Rhea asked. Her hand still lay within Teal'c's pouch, stroking and soothing the prim'ta. "To witness your father's punishment?"

"It is a sight I have seen before," Teal'c gasped. "When I was able to commune with the larval Goa'uld within me."

Rhea frowned, clearly not having expected that. She withdrew her hand and stepped away. Helena approached with a cloth, and wiped her mistress' hand clean of the Jaffa's blood and the prim'ta's skin secretions. "We will talk again," she promised, then turned and strode away, flanked by her servants.

 

Teal'c soon realised that his chains were too short for him to stand on his feet without the stool, and he hung in the restraints, his own weight slowing suffocating him. He fought for consciousness, but the world began to dim before strong hands held him upright, and the chains were loosened enough that he could stand. Cool water ran down his face, and a cloth was wiped across his brow, while hands worked at the binding on his wounded hip. He opened his eyes, but his vision was a blur.

A cup was pressed to his lips and he drank, tasting pungent herbs in the cool water, and recognising them from his time in the service of Apophis. "That is a healing draft," he muttered, still unable to speak more clearly.

"Of this I am aware," Seln'auc assured him. "Our Queen wishes you whole and strong."

"Torture," Teal'c surmised.

"Our Queen does not confide her plans in me," Seln'auc assured her. "That is enough," she added, apparently talking to someone else. "Leave the wound to breathe while the poultice soaks."

"Why would a priestess and healer take up arms?" Teal'c asked.

"The Goddess called," Seln'auc told him, sluicing his brow with water again. "I answered."

Teal'c heard her words, but listened more for her tone. "You know that she is a false deity," he said.

"Maybe," Seln'auc said, slapping her poultice harder than necessary against his wound. "But she _is_ my mistress, nonetheless."

"Jaffa! Finish your work, and do not speak to the prisoner."

Once more, Teal'c could feel the tension in Seln'auc as Helena spoke to her.

"Yes, Madam," Seln'auc replied, tightly.

As Teal'c's vision began to clear, he saw the favoured servant sweep out in a whirl of gold. At the same moment, Seln'auc cinched a bandage tightly around his waist, so that he grunted in pain.

"A human slave giving orders to a Jaffa?" Teal'c asked, forcing himself to ignore the pain.

Seln'auc was silent for a long moment. "Leave," she commanded. "I will finish." Teal'c saw another servant rise from near his feet, and scurry away with a large bowl. "She is Rhea's lo'taur," the Jaffa woman told Teal'c, with an edge of bitterness. "Favoured above all other servants."

"Even her First Prime?"

"Broa'c is more than a servant," Seln'auc replied, proudly. "He is her defender; her champion."

Teal'c narrowed his gaze, shrewdly. "It is easy to see that he cares for you," he said. "Why then are you jealous of Helena?"

The punch was not altogether unexpected, but it still hurt. Seln'auc may have still moved like a priestess, but Teal'c could now confirm that she hit like a warrior, as well as being a good shot with a staff weapon.

"Rhea wants Helena and Broa'c to be together," Teal'c guessed.

"You are wasting your breath," she told him.

"If you were free of Rhea..."

"Your wound will heal quickly now," she assured him. "Our Queen will return for you soon."

"Why does she not use the healing device on me?"

"She wants you to have time to think," Seln'auc replied.

"You do not believe that she is a god. Why let her keep you from the man you love?" Teal'c asked. "And who loves you?"

Seln'auc placed a finger on Teal'c's lips. "Save your strength," she told him, not without sympathy. "You may need it."

*

After about ten minutes, Amy made Regan get up and start moving again. Aside from the need to keep ahead of the Corvus Guards, her wound was bleeding, and she knew that if she let herself she would pass out. The protein markers and naquada in her bloodstream were supposed to make her stronger, more resilient, and she wondered if that was all that was keeping her going now. Whether it was or not, she would have traded that strength to be rid of the memories that haunted her.

"Are you alright?" Regan asked, as Amy slumped wearily against the cliff.

"Do I look alright, you stupid...?" Amy demanded. With an effort of will, she fought down the urge to slap her for her stupidity.

"Amy?"

"Amy," Amy repeated. "I'm Amy. Amy, Amy; Amy!" She cried, immediately regretting it. If anyone was following, they might hear her and find them. "Damnit," she whispered. "I'm okay," she told the frightened Regan. "Not great, but myself." She winced as she tried to take a step forward. "I need you to help me," she admitted. "Get under my arm here and support me. You'll probably need to defend us if we're attacked," she added. "And keep an eye out for a cave in the rock face, okay?"

Regan nodded, petrified. "I should tend your wound," she said. "I know how to do that."

Amy shook her head. "Not here. We're too open. When we reach the cave."

"When...?"

"Sooner if you stop asking questions," Amy told her. "Now help me."

Trembling, Regan stooped under Amy's left arm, and pushed up under her shoulder to support her.

Keeping her weight on the girl and her staff weapon and her uninjured right leg, Amy moved as quickly as she could, but the going was slow. She fretted impatiently, increasingly desperate to finish the mission so that she could repress Thoth's memories again. It was not that she feared slipping under his control, despite her outburst, so much as that she did not want to see the things that he had done. It had hurt her deeply to learn that ascension, the fate that her beloved Daniel had earned, was attainable by a Goa'uld, but to know what that Goa'uld had done; to see it in living colour. To see her own hands reaching out...

Amy shook her head to try and clear the images of slaughter, the sound of screaming and the scent of burning flesh. She had been into battle more than once, and she had killed her fellow humans, as well as Jaffa who were no worse than victims of a false creed. She had also seen cruelty, callousness, and ample evidence of her own race's inhumanity. Despite this experience, she had never seen death, never seen cruelty or sheer, brutal barbarism on the scale with which Thoth had once lived on a daily basis. By the time he had been set after Sekhmet, Thoth might have been the sober old man of the System Lords' council, but in his younger days he had possessed a savagery beyond Amy's comprehension, and it sickened her to not only behold it, but to vividly recall exulting in it.

How this _monster_ had become the gentle, enlightened creature that had briefly shared her mind was beyond her.

Amy felt Regan tugging at her, and forced herself to focus. "Sorry," she said. "You're right; we should get moving."

"We're at the cave," Regan told her, fearfully.

"Oh crap," Amy replied, realising that she must have zoned out completely for almost five minutes. "You'd better have a look at my leg then," she said. "Give me the zat and I'll keep watch."

Regan settled Amy a short distance into the cave. Amy set down her staff weapon, clumsy to fire form a sitting position, and took the proffered sidearm while Regan set about slitting open the side of her servant's dress, and examining her wound.

"This is bad," Regan said. "You've lost a lot of blood. You should have let me bind it sooner."

"I've..." Amy caught herself before she could tell Regan that she had suffered worse injuries.

"Amy?"

Amy closed her eyes. "I...I've been thinking that I can keep going on this injury because I'd done it before, but _I haven't_ ; Thoth did."

"Thoth was Goa'uld," Regan pointed out.

"I know that," Amy replied. "But I'm used to trusting my experience; to knowing roughly what my limits are." She swore, softly. "Tell me straight," she said. "Have I just killed myself."

"I don't know," Regan admitted, binding a strip of her dress tightly around Amy's leg. "Maybe not. If Sekhmet is in a Goa'uld complex..."

"So you're saying that unless there's a healing device or a sarcophagus lying around, I'm pretty much screwed?"

Regan hesitated, then nodded, reluctantly.

"If I'd let you bind my wound back at the hollow...?" Amy asked.

"I can't say," Regan insisted, unconvincingly.

Amy swore again. "I killed myself," she said.

*

"Awaken, Teal'c."

Slowly, Teal'c drifted back into consciousness. He did not know how long he had stood in his bonds before blacking out, nor how long he had been asleep. He was too weary to recognise the voice that spoke to him, but the words were issued as a command, and so he knew they must come from the Queen.

"Awaken and arise," she instructed him.

Teal'c opened his eyes and stood, towering over Rhea's slender form. He was free of all restraints, he realised, and had been laid out on a soft couch in what must be the Queen's inner sanctum. The silk-walled chamber was richly appointed, the luxury seeming extraordinarily excessive for a temporary dwelling, even for a Goa'uld. The Queen stood before him, dressed in a robe of midnight blue, and with a simple, silver tiara to hold her golden hair in place. Behind her loomed the massive bulk of the eunuch slave, and to either side her closest servants, Helena and Broa'c.

"It is pleasing to see you recovered," Rhea said. Teal'c gave no reply, and she fixed him with a piercing gaze. "So much like your father," she commented. "Not in looks," she added. "But in spirit."

"Do not speak of my father," Teal'c growled.

Rhea raised a hand and Broa'c froze on the point of stepping forward. "But who has more right than I?" She demanded, adopting the singular pronoun in an expression of intimacy. "Not you, surely. You do not even know why he was executed."

"Cronus, your husband, murdered my father for failing to win a battle that could not be won."

Rhea gave a throaty chuckle. "Oh no, my pet," she purred. "That is only half the story."

With that, she plunged her hand once more into his pouch, running her fingers across the prim'ta's skin until it squirmed in delight, swamping the Jaffa with endorphins, as well as making him feel slightly nauseous.

Teal'c's eyes rolled back in his head as the symbiote's pleasure threatened to overwhelm him, and in a moment he was once more transported to the shadowy halls of a palace unknown to him, and yet strangely familiar. Again he realised that he was reliving some memory of his father's life, and again he found himself doing so through his father's senses.

Hands moved urgently across Ro'nac's skin, and Teal'c felt it as though it were his own. He felt also the heat of the woman in his arms; a heat greater than from any woman he had ever held in his own life. _Is this my mother?_ He wondered, embarrassed at the thought, but unable to tell as his father's eyes were closed in ecstasy. He was rolled onto his back, the woman above him, and he opened his eyes to see a curtain of golden hair surrounding him. Eyes burned in the darkness overhead, regarding him with a jealous, consuming hunger.

"You are mine," Rhea purred.

"Always," Teal'c/Ro'nac moaned. "Yours alone. You are my Queen; my Goddess."

"What of your woman?"

"Nothing to me," Ro'nac swore, without hesitation, tearing a wound in his son's heart.

"Your God; Cronos."

Ro'nac hesitated. "A man can serve but one God," he replied.

Rhea laughed, softly. "Such fair and cautious words from a warrior," she whispered. "Show me what else you can do."

Teal'c felt his father's arms wrap tightly around the Queen, his lips cleaving hungrily to hers. Only then did he realise that they were no longer his father's arms and lips; that this was no longer a dream or a memory. Cronos' widowed Queen was in his arms, touching him with the same possessive lust that had fired her in Ro'nac's arms, and waking in him his father's passion for his Mistress.

Rhea put her mouth to Teal'c's ear. "You are mine," she hissed.

Teal'c was silent, fighting his father's desires as well as his own.

The Queen turned her head slightly, and bit down hard into Teal'c's ear, twisting it between her sharp teeth until he cried out in pain. "You are mine," she said again.

"Always," he gasped, in pain and desire. "Yours alone."

*

Amy was lying peacefully by the fire, drifting into a weary sleep, when she felt something grab her by the shoulder and shake.

"Go 'way, Boon," she muttered, waving idly over her shoulder. "Sleepy."

"Wake up," Boon pleaded, which was something that Amy could not remember happening before, however much she might defend the old mongrel hound's intelligence against her brothers' taunts. "Please, Amy!"

Amy started awake, her body cold against the rock. "Wha?" She gasped. "What is it?"

"You fell," Regan said, in a quavering voice just this side of total panic. "You can't leave me here," she begged. "I'm no good on my own."

"Gotta...Gotta keep moving," Amy croaked. "Thirsty," she realised. "Water, then go." She dug in her pack for a flask, and took a long draught. The water was cold, and woke her up a little, but her head still felt like it was packed in wool, and her arms and legs seemed carved from cold marble. She knew that she was suffering from severe shock, but she still seemed capable of movement. When that changed, when the last strength went from her limbs, that would be it; without Talitha, Regan was far too slight to have a hope of carrying Amy any distance at all.

"Right," Amy said, dropping the flask. "Let's go." She took a step forward, and would have fallen had not Regan caught her.

"Here," Regan said. "Stand...and take this." Once she had Amy standing more-or-less steadily, she stooped for the staff weapon and pressed it into Amy's hand. "Lean on it," she advised. "I'll just get the zat and we can..." Regan broke off with a gasp of fear.

"Aray kree!"

Amy turned, and tried to level the staff, but somehow she managed to tangle it in her legs, and she fell heavily to the ground. She looked up, and saw two Jaffa at the mouth of the cave. The Corvus helms cast sinister shadows across the floor towards her, and she found herself leaning back to avoid the shape of a lethal beak by her head. In a moment of near-delirious abstraction, she could not help but think of Plato and the shadows in the cave, and wonder whether the shadowy crow trying to peck out her eyes was as real as the Jaffa.

"A-Amy," Regan whimpered.

Amy looked down, and saw the girl crouched on the floor. The zat'nik'tel was inches from her fingertips, and hidden from the two warriors.

Without taking her eyes from the warriors, Amy spoke in English. "Your mothers were whores," she told them, in a diffident tone. Neither reacted; that was good.

"Amy?"

"Pick up the gun," Amy told Regan. "Pick up the gun and shoot the Jaffa aiming at you; then the other. Move your hand slowly to the gun, then bring it up quickly."

Regan stayed frozen in place, trembling like a leaf.

"Regan."

"I...I can't," she whispered. "I can't move."

"Yes you _can_ ," Amy insisted, but at her change of tone, both Jaffa drew a bead on her.

"Regan," she snarled. A staff tip snapped open.

Regan darted for the zat, fumbling with it for precious seconds as the warriors turned on her, then sending the crippling energy blast rippling between the two.

"Ah, hell," Amy swore, fighting fatigue and the lack of feeling in her hands to grasp and swing around the staff. She jabbed down hard on the trigger, the blast striking the ground between the feet of the nearest Jaffa. It was a miss, but it bought Regan just enough time to zat one of the Jaffa before he would have killed her. The second warrior fired at Amy, sending a rain of fractured stone tumbling over her as it hit the rock behind her head. Then a zat blast arced around him, and he too fell.

Amy put a hand to her head, and felt the crispness where the ends of her hair had been scorched by the blast. "Regan," she hissed, angrily.

"'M sorry," the girl moaned. "I couldn't..."

"Never mind," Amy gasped. "Just finish them off and help me up."

"Finish...oh, yes." She raised the zat, her hand trembling. After a moment she lowered the weapon. "I can't," she said, plaintively. "It just doesn't seem right, when they're..."

Amy sighed. "Just help me up," she said. Regan came over and lifted Amy to her feet.

"I'm sorry," Regan said again. "I just can't kill them when they're defenceless."

"It's okay," Amy assured her, taking the zat'nik'tel from her hand. "Get their weapons; keep a staff and a zat for yourself and throw the others over the cliff. Be sure to check for any other Jaffa outside."

"Yes, Amy," Regan said.

Amy waited while the child disposed of the weapons. She raised the zat once Regan was out of sight, but she could not find it in herself to pull the trigger on a downed soldier. When Regan returned, Amy leaned on her shoulder, more heavily than before.

"Now," Amy said. "Quick as we can, because they won't be happy when they wake up."

*

Teal'c lay on his side, in the grip of a kind of satin-covered shellshock. The memories that Rhea seemed able to conjure in him had left him disoriented, and made the world around him seem almost unreal. He was aware that neither Broa'c nor Helena had left the room while he made love to their Queen – Broa'c watching for any sign of danger, Helena just watching – but he did not care, because they seemed only to be shadows; memories.

Rhea stroked his chest with an idle hand, her movements almost sensual, but for a calculated, mechanical quality. Her caresses were intended to make him lose himself in lust, but although she pretended it was not so, Rhea had her own desires entirely under control.

"I shall leave you now, my Teal'c," Rhea said, kissing the scab that had formed over the bite on his ear. "To think. Broa'c will see to your needs."

The Queen rose, and moved away from the couch. Helena brought her mistress a goblet of wine, while Broa'c approached Teal'c. "Follow me," he said. Clearly when Rhea said that she would leave him, he would be the one to do the moving.

Teal'c followed, dutifully, still reeling from his encounter with a woman he now knew to have been his father's lover. Broa'c led him to another chamber, smaller and less luxurious than Rhea's quarters, but clearly far more than a mere servant's room.

"You will rest here until summoned," Broa'c told Teal'c. "You will be brought water to bathe, as well as food and drink."

"What do you know of my father's affair with the Queen?" Teal'c asked.

"Ro'nac was my Queen's lover for many years," Broa'c told Teal'c. "Forsaking even his wife, and siring hundreds of prim'ta upon her. Such was his duty, and he performed it well. Perhaps too well.

"In time she grew to desire Ro'nac for himself, and in her...affection for him, allowed his seed to take root in her host. She bore him a child," he explained.

"A human child?" Teal'c asked. "My...brother," he said, separating his own memories from Ro'nac's in time to keep from saying 'son'.

"Half-brother," Broa'c corrected. "That she would do this thing for his First Prime angered Cronos, but the great System Lord could not admit to being a cuckold, nor could he claim the child as his own for fear of the penalty for siring a Harcesis. He hid my Queen away until the birth, and decided to punish her with the loss of her favourite...toy," he finished, clearly uncomfortable with the word, but finding no other more apt.

"My father," Teal'c realised.

"Ro'nac did not know that his secret was uncovered when Cronos sent him into battle to die, but still he thwarted the God's aims. When he saw that he could not win the day, he retreated, his skill alone preventing the total destruction of one-fifth of Cronos armies."

"A steep price for the life of one adulterer."

"Ro'nac dishonoured his God," Broa'c reminded Teal'c. "And Cronos was proud. For Ro'nac it was all for nothing. When he returned, defeated, Cronos had all the reason he needed to execute him, with no admission of his shame."

"Rhea was there," Teal'c remembered. "He saw her, and in that moment he knew why he must die," he realised. "He gave himself to death without a struggle rather than shame her with cowardice."

"It pleased our Queen's husband that she should watch," Broa'c said, his voice sounding brittle. "That she should see that he could take from her the things that she desired. Then he allowed her child to be born, and ordered her to kill it with her own hands. This she did, and he accepted her back into his palace without further punishment."

Teal'c pressed his eyes closed, in grief for the death of his infant brother.

"But she deceived him," Broa'c continued. "Her son was exchanged for a Jaffa's boy, whom she slaughtered in his place. Her lo'taur, Hero, took the child of Ro'nac to the Jaffa to be raised as her son; Broa'c."

Teal'c was not certain at what point he had seen what was coming, but the announcement elicited little surprise. "So you do not just serve your Goddess," he said.

"I defend my mother," Broa'c acknowledged. "That is correct, brother."

Teal'c felt a strange twisting in his heart. He had once called his fellow warriors 'brother', but he had always been an only child. The nearest he had come to a true brother was his robotic double; the true killer of Cronos. To be suddenly faced with knowing that this man was also his father's son took him aback.

"I became her page at the start of my tenth year," Broa'c went on. "I received each prim'ta I have borne from her own hand, and was trained by my predecessor to be her protector. Now I am her First Prime, and the leader of the Corvus Guard."

"By her favour," Teal'c ribbed.

"On my worth," he replied. "None have been strong enough to take that right from me." He gave Teal'c a shrewd, appraising glance. "Do you think you might be?"

Teal'c stood, squaring off against his half-brother. Broa'c had about an inch on him in height, but was just a little slighter, so that they were probably a close match in weight. Both Jaffa stood like trained warriors, although Teal'c could read in Broa'c's stance that he was trained in a more aggressive, all-out offensive style of Mastaba than that taught by Master Bra'tac; more akin to that favoured by Imhotep. That meant that Broa'c would attack without reserve, commit everything to a killing blow, while Teal'c held back and watched for openings. If Broa'c hit him, he would feel it, but Teal'c was confident that he could win.

That was not, however, his aim. "I do not believe that First Prime is the role our Queen has chosen for me," he said, surprising himself by the ease with which the appellation came to his lips.

Broa'c looked into Teal'c's eyes, and found no sign of deceit. He nodded. "Since Cronos death, we have been on the run," he continued. "Outcast from the System Lords because our Queen would not take a new Pharaoh."

Teal'c nodded his understanding. The System Lords required their precious Queens to provide the larvae which they used to control the Jaffa, but the Queens in turn required little from their husbands. If a Queen were to attain power on her own terms, it might prove disastrous for all of the System Lords.

"Recently, we learned that an ancient warship, the _Wadjet,_ might be hidden on this planet, and our Queen determined that we must find it. With its power, she shall crush her enemies, reunite Cronos' domains, and return to the System Lords as an undeniable power, to take her rightful place at their head."

"And I shall play a part in this?"

"We both shall, now," Broa'c promised. "Side by side; as brothers."

He held out his hand, and Teal'c clasped his arm, tightly. "As brothers," he agreed.

*

"Where are we?" Amy asked, peering into the darkness.

"Still moving back into the caves," Regan said. Her small voice sounded strange, amplified and distorted through her mask, but she needed the enhancers in the eyes to see at all.

Amy would have traded her left leg to have brought a pair of night vision goggles, but then at the moment she might have given that leg away, and the pain that came with it. "Are the walls still rock?" She asked.

"Yes," Regan replied. "What else would they..."

"What?" Amy asked.

"Ahead. I see light, and...gold."

Amy breathed a sigh of relief. "The compound where Thoth imprisoned Sekhmet; we are nearly there. Hurry now; get me to the door."

Half-supporting, half-dragging Amy, Regan moved as quickly as she could towards the gold. Dim lights glimmered at the door posts, and at the touch of Regan's hand to the controls, the door slid smoothly open. She pulled Amy inside, into a long corridor, basked in the warm glow of a dozen lights. The girl touched her collar and withdrew her mask.

"Close the door," Amy said. "And stand well back when you do it."

Regan complied and as soon as she touched the control node, the door slammed shut with alarming speed. The lights around the frame turned red.

"Don't touch the door," Amy said. "When you touched the controls, the complex thought that we were trying to escape and it's locked down. The whole arrangement is designed to stop people getting out," she explained. "From outside the door opens with a touch; _unless_ there's a lock-down on. This should make it harder for Rhea to follow us in."

Amy sank against the wall of the corridor, letting go the last remnants of her strength. "We made it, Regan," she said, her voice slurred. "We did it."

"Amy? Amy get up," Regan said, anxiously. "We are not done yet, Amy." Desperately, the girl grabbed Amy under the arms and began dragging her along the corridor.

"Done now," Amy mumbled, drifting in and out of awareness as she watched the ceiling slide by.

 

"I found it," Regan said, after Amy had no idea how long.

"Hmm?"

"A sarcophagus," Regan replied. "I am sorry to have to do this, but I can not find any healing devices – or any devices of any kind – anywhere."

"No, that's okay," Amy assured her, not entirely sure what the girl was talking about. "Anywhere's good. I'll just lie down a while."

"It is locked," Regan told her. "But I can open it. I have always been good with puzzles," she added, with a touch of pride.

 _Probably her one real skill_ , Amy decided. _The only one from before she became a Tok'ra anyway_ . She mulled over what the girl had said. _Puzzles_ , she thought. _A puzzle lock; like..._ "Regan," she gasped. "Don't..."

She turned, pain spreading along her leg, and her warning became an agonised scream. Regan turned towards her as the sarcophagus spread its wings, worry writ large across her features. She began to gather Amy up to move her to the sarcophagus, and so it was over Regan's shoulder that Amy saw the figure rise from the open sarcophagus and give tongue to a frightful, inhuman roar.

*

Teal'c was given the chance to bathe and eat before Rhea summoned him again, or rather to bathe and to get about half way through his meal. He left the remaining food, knowing that it was not wise to keep a Goa'uld waiting. Helena led him back through the Labyrinth of silk to the Queen's chambers, where he bent his knee before the throne before he really knew what he was doing.

"Speak to us, my Teal'c," Rhea said. "Your so-called mistress told our First Prime that she was searching for a teltac. Is this true?"

Teal'c clasped his hands to keep them from trembling. "Yes, my Queen," he said.

"Look at us," Rhea commanded. "We would see the eyes of our Has'va when he lies to us."

Teal'c looked up, suppressing a flinch of pain at the thought of lying to the goddess – false goddess, he reminded himself – even as he winced to be called a Has'va – in Tau'ri terms, a male concubine. Rhea caught his gaze, and her eyes seemed to bore into his soul. She raised her hand very slightly, and Teal'c felt a sudden dizziness. Once more, he could sense his father's memories crowding in at the edges of his mind, pressing down and filling his head with thoughts of loyalty undeserved and duty without question, that he had thought long-purged from his system.

"You are trying to control me with my father's memories," he realised.

"We are showing you your destiny," she corrected him. "In the service of your goddess."

"It is strange for a goddess to lie with a slave," Teal'c said, forcing the words out.

"You seek to test us," Rhea noted. "But we are in far too good a mood," she lied, barely containing her rage. Her fingers tensed, and Teal'c felt Ro'nac's emotions intensify. "You are our slave; ours to do with as we will. It is not your place to question us; it is ours to question you."

"Yes, my Queen," Teal'c gasped. Overcome by shame he cast his eyes downwards again, unsure whether it was his insolence or his surrender that he was ashamed _of_.

"Now tell us why you came here?"

"We sought..." Teal'c struggled and fell silent.

"Look on us!" Rhea demanded, and he did so. "Now tell us," she commanded, holding him pinned under her eyes. "Did you seek the _Wadjet_ ?"

With an effort, Teal'c held his treacherous tongue.

"Yes, you did," she said, reading it in his conflicted eyes. "How did you know where to come?" She asked. "We have searched for more than one-hundred and fifty years to learn where Thoth imprisoned She-who-is-powerful, and we were most careful to destroy the trail of evidence that led us here."

"My Queen is most wise," Teal'c grunted.

"Answer!"

"We...Thoth..."

"What?" Rhea rose and stepped down form her throne, catching Teal'c by the throat and hoisting him up. "Speak, Jaffa!"

"Thoth...memories..." He croaked, forcing the words past her constricting grasp. "Followed here."

Rhea relented, allowing Teal'c to slump to his knees, her hand moving from its killing grip to stroke his head, lovingly. "Thoth's memories," she mused. "Then the women...They know where Sekhmet is imprisoned?"

Teal'c nodded, without even thinking about it.

"Broa'c," Rhea called.

"My Queen."

"Muster all of your Corvus Guards," she commanded.

"All?" Broa'c asked, hopefully.

Rhea rounded on him with a look of blazing fury. "Do not press us, First Prime. The woman disobeyed our lo'taur's directions, and spoke blasphemy with our Has'va. She shall remain in custody until we have decided an appropriate punishment."

Teal'c looked to either side of the Queen. Broa'c's face was a picture of conflict, while Helena smiled a vicious smile that left no doubt who had been telling tales.

"Yes, Mistress," Broa'c said, eventually.

Rhea nodded, once. "And find armour for my Has'va," she added. "Helena; fetch my battle dress."

*

"Free!" Sekhmet boomed, her voice echoing through the chamber. "Free!" She threw back her head and laughed out loud.

Millennia in the sarcophagus had taken their toll on Sekhmet's robes, until she was clad only in scraps of cloth and a suit of shining, trinium mail. He hair was tangled and matted, her fingernails long and ragged, but her skin was smooth and her eyes clear and bright. Amy suppressed a shudder to think what harm her mind and spirit might have suffered during her imprisonment.

Plainly she had lost none of her coordination through her long spell of inaction, as she vaulted easily from the sarcophagus. She was a wonder to behold in motion, possessing the nigh hypnotic grace and majesty of a great cat. Amy felt quite faint as Sekhmet turned her golden eyes to face those who had freed her, but she could not be sure that was not just the blood loss.

"Who has freed me?" She asked Regan, her voice dropping to a playful purr. She paced languidly towards them, the movement more lazy than sensual. "And what is this?" She looked down at the dying Amy with curiosity. "Some plaything of yours? Let me put the poor thing out of her misery."

 _Oh yeah_ , Amy thought, dreamily. _That sounds good_. Sekhmet took a step forward, and for a moment Amy actually welcomed her impending demise.

"Keep away from her," Regan said, raising her zat. Her voice shook, and so did her hand, but she stood her ground, facing the terrible figure of Sekhmet. Amy shook her head to clear away her nihilistic impulse. She tried to reach for a weapon, but could not remember where she had left hers. In addition, she was having difficulty moving her arms.

"Put that toy away," Sekhmet ordered.

"No," Regan replied, firmly. "You keep away from..."

Sekhmet idly swatted the zat gun from Regan's hand, and wrapped her slender, armoured fingers around the girl's throat. Amy willed herself to grab the fallen zat, but apparently even the effort of thinking it was too much for her, and she blacked out.


End file.
